


Sanders' Sanctum for Supers

by HikariDawn



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Epithet Erased (Cartoon), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Accidental Death, Aged up Indus Tarbella, Aged up Sylvester Ashling, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bad Parenting, Bullying, Child Abandonment, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Twins, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Foster Care, Gen, Government Agencies, Homelessness, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Imprisonment, Kid Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Kid Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Kid Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Kid Deceit | Janus Sanders, Kid Dr. Emile Picani, Kid Logic | Logan Sanders, Kid Morality | Patton Sanders, Kid Sleep | Remy Sanders, Loss of Parent(s), Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Nonbinary Character, Parent-Child Relationship, Slice of Life, Sympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), Tags May Change, i guess?, it's subtle but it's there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 21,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26426803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HikariDawn/pseuds/HikariDawn
Summary: Eight kids with powers and troubled pasts walked up to the house. Eight kids with the abillites to bring the world to their knees. If the house isn't able to contain them, that is.Or, the tales from Thomas Sanders' Sanctum for Supers.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Dr. Emile Picani, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani & Thomas Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Dr. Emile Picani
Comments: 58
Kudos: 194





	1. Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to anyone who is reading this! Read the tags for warnings about what's to come (or don't and be surprised, totally up to you). Fair warning though, this will get a bit dark. There will be no (major) cursing in this fic, the Teen rating is mostly for fear and light gore. 
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoy the first chapter! :D

The day they all moved in was… eventful to say the least. 

Patton had arrived first, seemingly teleporting in ten minutes before eight. He had bright blonde hair and blue eyes behind wide circle glasses. He wore a gray cardigan around his shoulders like a cape with a baby blue polo shirt. He waved as soon as he saw Thomas walk onto the landing on the stairs and apologised for being so early. Thomas was shocked, sure, but Patton had said he would “find you when I’m ready.” 

The next was Virgil, who nervously scampered up the walkway past the fence like he was a cow to the slaughterhouse. He had black hair with purple tips and wore a black sweater with purple patches. He fiddled with his black fingerless gloves before he knocked three times and Patton had let him in. 

It was still five minutes early, and barely a minute had passed before Logan arrived. Logan had square glasses and cold, calculating navy blue eyes. He wore a black polo shirt and a blue tie and had a brown messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He almost looked angry he wasn’t the first one there. 

Roman and Remus were next, Remus skipping across the walkway and chattering along. Roman simply smiled and clutched his books and his suitcase a little closer. He swatted Remus away when he tried to lick the doorknob, rolling his eyes just as Thomas opened the door. 

Once the clock struck eight, Janus sauntered up the walkway, huffing and glaring at the fence with his bag gripped tight with his yellow gloves. His black bowler hat was tipped over the left side of his face, barely doing anything to disguise the scales there. 

Finally, at eight fifteen, Remy finally showed. He lowered his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose at the fence, took a long sip of his coffee, sashayed up the driveway, and threw open the door without a second thought. 

“Great! Now that everyone’s here,” Thomas clapped his hands, a shock of orange exploding from his palms and flying past everyone “I can lock the gates.” 

“Lock the gates? You didn’t say anything about-” Virgil began. 

“Relax Emo. There’s no way we can’t break out.” Janus rolled his eyes. 

“Falsehood. Unless you are visually compromised, which you do not seem to be, you saw the burst of energy originating from Thomas. Thomas has few limbic processes activating, and no additional activity in the prefrontal cortex.” Logan stated, adjusting his glasses. 

“English, nerd.” Remy said with a sip of his coffee. 

Logan glared at him. “Thomas wasn’t lying.” 

“Excellent deduction, Logan. Though, anyone with your power set would naturally have an easier time figuring out the truth.” Logan looked like he was ready to argue, but Thomas simply continued. “My power is the ability to create barriers around areas or people. These barriers stay up for as long as I wish, which isn’t going to be anytime soon.” 

“What happens if we try to leave before the barrier comes down?” Patton asked, tugging on the arms of his cardigan. 

“That is a question easily answered.” Thomas passed the group, opening the door and flourishing out. “Would anyone like to try?” 

“MOVE OUT THE WAY, COWARDS!” Remus raced out, much to his twin’s chagrin. He sprinted towards the fence, and just before he could step off the property, he seemed to run straight into an electric fence. He bounced back, flopping onto his back in a mess of static and orange jolts. Roman simply stood there, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “He’s fine. He’s shaken off way worse than a glorified electric fence.” Roman insisted. 

As if on cue, Remus sat up and waved. “ROMAN! DID YA SEE? I GOT TASED BY A WALL!” 

Thomas cleared his throat. “In any case, I would hope that soon you all would stay here of your own accord. The world is a dangerous place for people like you, and being minors, you all could easily be locked up for life.” 

“Like this isn't already a lockup for life.” Janus mumbled. 

“Try jail, kid. Trust me, it's a lot worse than a mansion with your own room, whatever food you want, free use of all channels on tv, and training for your powers if you need it.” Thomas snapped. He sighed. “Look, I’m just trying to look after you guys. I would be happy to give you an education if you want it, and I will happily let you go the second you turn eighteen. Until then, you all are legally under my care. I really hope you guys like it here, and if you need anything, I am never far. All that being said, who wants a tour?” 

They all walked through the house. The mansion was certainly grand. There were at least a mirror every hallway, probably for decoration, but Patton seemed to like them. Logan and Janus gawked at the humongous library, making a beeline for the nonfiction section the minute they stepped foot inside. Remy practically kissed the coffee maker, and Virgil made himself at home on top of the fridge. They had an entire art studio, which made Remus shout in delight and point out every single supply to his brother. Roman’s jaw dropped at the sight of their own private theater, perfect for performing anything he could possibly wish for. There was even a pool in the backyard, which Roman had to drag Remus away from before he jumped in. The house was perfect. 

Their rooms were perfect as well. There was one hallway for the bedrooms, with four on each side, and Thomas’s at the end of the hall if they ever needed anything. 

And so, Sanders’ Sanctum for Supers was born.


	2. Icebreakers

It was around noon when Thomas called everyone down for lunch. Thomas made everyone sandwiches, all prepped with everyone’s favorite toppings. No one quite understood how he did that, considering no one had told him what toppings they liked. 

“Alrighty gang! We’re gonna be here for a while, so let’s try to get to know each other a bit more. How about we play two truths and a lie?” Thomas asked. 

“Ooh! I wanna go first! Me!” 

Everyone turned to the smallest person at the table, who seemed to have materialized out of thin air. He had brown hair with brown oval glasses over sparkling green eyes. He wore a peach cardigan and a pink tie, even though he couldn’t have been more than three and a half feet tall. He was raising his hand high in the air and bouncing in his seat. 

Thomas chuckled. “Everyone, this is Emile. He moved in a couple months ago. You can go first, buddy.” 

Emile fist pumped and cheered. “Alrighty! One, I have diffused fifteen bombs in my life. Two, I could beat all of you in a fight, eight on one in about five minutes, maximum. And three, I am five years old.” 

Everyone stared with wide eyes and slack jawed faces. “Well, come on, guess!” Emile asked, vibrating with excitement. 

“Is the lie number one?” Virgil asked, ducking his head slightly when everyone looked to him. 

Emile shook his head. “I’m only four years old!” He put up four fingers, as proof. 

“Do you have any martial arts training?” Logan asked, starting his sandwich. 

“Nuh uh. I could still take you down though.” Emile explained, taking a big bite of his sandwich. 

“And how would you do that? You don’t even know if we’re like, blackbelts or something.” Roman tossed his sandwich down, in anger.

“And you don’t know our power sets. Considering we’re all here, we must all have ways of killing opponents.” Janus added. 

Emile stared at Janus for a moment. “I’ve just gotta make sure I take everyone out the right way. If I knock out glasses,” he pointed to Logan, “then take out you,” he pointed to Janus, “I should have a good setup for beating everyone else.” 

“Why take out Logan first?” Thomas asked, smiling like he already knew the answer. 

“He knows a lot about brain chemistry, and reads it off of me like an open book. He probably has some sort of power about mind control, or the brain. Brain control, maybe? He could probably kill all of us without even lifting a finger.” Emile explained. Logan’s eyes widened. Emile had hit the nail on the head. 

“Next is Janus. He seems aggressive, probably would have a strong offense. He’s got fangs, which would hurt a whole lot if he were to bite someone. He also has scales, so his powers probably have something in common with snakes. Snakes also tend to be venomous, so that might be in his power set as well.” 

Emile looked across the table, seemingly calculating. “Remy, Patton, Remus, and Roman need certain supplies or conditions to be able to do anything special, so they shouldn’t take too much time to subdue. Then there’s Thomas, who I have been sparring with for the past couple of months, and who I can take care of in approximately thirty seconds.

“The only other one who might be a problem is Virgil. He doesn’t have particularly strong muscles or training, but he does seem to be glancing between everyone anxiously. He probably doesn’t have a strong handle on his powers, and is hoping it doesn’t strike unexpectedly. It probably has something to do with his emotions. So long as I take out the wildcard, I should be safe. Eight down, I win.” Emile smiled, picking up his sandwich and biting into it happily. 

Thomas snickered at the table’s wide eyed glances. “Yeah, Emile’s a smart cookie. He could solve any puzzle you put in front of him in a few minutes, absolute maximum. I’d stay on his good side if I were you.”

“Well, that’ll be easy! I like you all already!” Emile chirped, grinning.


	3. I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

Virgil couldn’t sleep. Thankfully, the moving day he had been dreading didn’t go as terribly as he thought it would. He didn’t accidentally kill anyone. Yet. But he just couldn’t stop worrying. Everyone probably already hated him. He made a stupid first impression and… he was stuck. Stuck in this perfect house with these perfect people that he could never be. Virgil sighed. He wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. He might as well explore the house some more. Maybe he could find some cozy nap spots for tomorrow. 

He slowly got out of bed and creaked his door open. He winced slightly, hoping he didn’t wake anyone. He carefully passed the remaining rooms, walked down the stairs, and looked around for a minute, wondering where to start. He was feeling a bit thirsty. Maybe he should head to the kitchen for a cup of water. 

He walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“Hey.” 

Virgil jumped a foot into the air and yelped. It was Remy, leaning on the counter next to the coffee maker. 

“Cool it dude. It’s just me.”   
“What’re you doing up so late?” Virgil asked, trying desperately to study his breathing.   
“Late?” Remy asked, glancing at the clock. It glowed a blinding shade of red and read three twenty eight am. “Huh, it is late. What’re you doing awake?”   
Virgil shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”  
Remy chuckled. “I hear that.” The coffeemaker dinged. “Want a cup?” Remy asked, grabbing a mug from the cabinet above him.   
“Is that it a good idea having coffee this late? Aren’t you planning on going to sleep soon?”   
Remy scoffed, adjusting his sunglasses, which he was still wearing though the lights were off. “You want a cup or not?”   
Virgil nodded hesitantly. He wasn’t sleeping anyway, what’s the harm? 

Remy reached up and snagged another mug and filled them up with coffee.   
“Creamer’s on the third shelf to the right in the fridge, milk is top shelf to the left, and sugar’s right here.” Remy explained, waving a box of prepackaged sugar and pushing it, along with the mug over to Virgil. 

“You really made yourself at home, huh?” Virgil asked, tossing sugar into his coffee.  
Remy snickered. “Well, we’re gonna be here for a while. Might as well figure out where the good stuff is.”   
“True.” 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Virgil could almost hear the gears in his head turning a bit faster the second he took a sip. 

“You up for an allnighter?” Remy asked, grabbing a jar of Crofter’s jam and tossing some bread in the toaster.   
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Virgil said, smiling.   
Remy laughed. “Finally someone gets it!” The toast popped out of the toaster and Remy snagged it with a flourish.   
“Now let’s party!” 

“I bet I can stay up longer than you can.” Virgil announced, two hours later during a marathon of some old cartoon Virgil had never heard of.   
Remy laughed loudly, before realizing it was five in the morning and hushing. “I highly doubt that.”   
“Then we’ll bet on it. Loser has to do the winner’s chores for a week.”   
Remy snickered. “Sure, why not?” 

This was a poor decision. A fact that would become increasingly apparent throughout the next week. 

“Virge, you’ve seriously gotta sleep sometime. It’s messing with your head.”   
“Psh, not my fault you’ve got vision problems. I’m telling you there was a squirrel with a surfboard right there!” 

“Virgil it’s been three days. Go to bed already!”   
“You first.”   
“Virgil I swear I will knock you out myself if you do not go to bed right this second.”   
“No. I’m gonna win the bet and I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”   
“Virgil, no.”  
“Virgil yes?”  
“No!” 

Remy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Virgil, I think we should end the stupid bet.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll lose?” Virgil mumbled, barely able to stand on his own and leaning on the wall. 

“I should have been honest with you from the start.” 

Virgil squinted in confusion. “Am I really tired or are you just not making sense?”  
“I don’t sleep.” Remy admitted.

There was a moment of silence when they just looked at each other. 

“Like ever?” 

“Never ever. I only made the bet because you suggested it and I didn’t realize how far this was gonna go!” Remy sighed again. “So the bet’s off?”

Remy glanced back up at Virgil, who had passed out leaning against the wall. 

Great. Now how was Remy supposed to get him to bed?


	4. Dangerous to Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you this story would get dark. 
> 
> TWs for the chapter:   
> Creepy crawly death dealers (spiders)  
> Dead bodies  
> Mentioned Asphyxiation and claustrophobia
> 
> If you don't want to read the description for these things, skip the paragraph starting with "Remy snapped his eyes open" and pick back up at "Remy sighed and waved his hand dismissively."
> 
> Stay safe guys and thanks for reading!

Remy never understood “sleep”. Well, he did and he didn’t. He understood why he liked sleep. Everyone else… not so much. 

Where was the fun in laying in a room for eight hours, sometimes more ugh, with your eyes closed? Sure, beds were comfy. Remy could admit that. Maybe, maybe Remy could sit on his bed fiddling with his DS for four hours, if he was pushing it, but eight? Eight? How did one survive? 

Besides the overwhelming boredom of sitting in one place for a third of the day, people were extremely susceptible to attack! If a murderer just walked up to someone sleeping, they could easily kill them, it would just be too easy! It just… didn’t make sense. 

That being said, he totally enjoyed others being asleep. In fact, it was the highlight of his day!

Sitting in the dark with a mug of steaming hot coffee with sunglasses on was just perfect. Eight hours of nothing but gaming and sweet sweet caffeine. No loud noises, no people running around. Nothing but the beeping of his DS and the slurping of his coffee. Simply perfect. 

The unlimited power over someone’s subconscious was cool too. 

Remy heard a piercing screech. He quickly glanced at the clock, which read 2:48. Huh, pretty good time to save his game. Remy saved his progress on his DS and snapped it shut. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted into the dream. 

Remy’s eyes snapped open. “Dream” was certainly not the right word for this. There were spiders easily the size of humans in every possible crevice, with bloody bodies strewn across the floor. Despite the chomping mandibles of the spiders and the green venom they spat, Remy somehow knew they hadn’t died from exposure. They had died from asphyxiation, the lack of air. Why was that such an important detail that the dreamer made certain that was the case before Remy’s arrival? Upon closer examination, the walls were crystalline and sparkling, and pushing inwards, perhaps an additional claustrophobia. 

Remy sighed and waved his hand dismissively. Instantly, the spiders, bodies, and the walls faded away and the scene became a serene field in summer. Bright yellow and blue flowers sprouted and bloomed, the sun was shining, with a light breeze going through Remy’s hair. There, now he could focus a bit better. 

“You good, babe?” Remy asked, getting a good look at the dreamer. He was clearly older than the representation, probably because he “felt small”, which often happened with nightmares. The representation seemed to be approximately ten years old, with curly blond hair and freckles. The round glasses he wore further magnified the tears streaming down his face. He wore a gray cardigan with the hood pulled up to reveal adorable cat ears. The boy sniffed. 

“I’m taking that as a no.” Remy sat down next to the boy. “Anything I could do to make it better?”

The boy didn’t respond, wiping his eyes.

“I can do anything you know. Baby animals you can pet, people you wanna see, food you wanna eat, whatever.” Remy tried.

The boy sniffled again. “Baby animals?”

“Sure kid. Got a favorite?” 

The boy thought about it for a minute. “I like kittens, but I’m allergic…”

Remy simply shrugged. “Allergies are stupid anyway.” He waved his hand and a small gray kitten appeared in the boy’s lap. 

The boy smiled, a real smile, and started giving the little kitten a hug. Normal cats wouldn’t have liked a hug, but this was a dream. Anything was possible with Remy around.


	5. Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter on, I'll be using a writing prompt list! I do not own the list and I'm not sure who created it, but it's really helpful to me! Every once in a while I'll write without a prompt, but most of the time this is where I get my inspiration!
> 
> The prompt list is here:  
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6c/cd/9f/6ccd9f1747487d37e941ca12ed962fb9.png
> 
> No tws for this chapter! Yay!

Roman almost couldn’t believe that he moved into a place with a theater. A real, live theater! With bright glowing spotlights that seemed like bridges towards the heavens, ruby red curtains that framed the wings perfectly, as if in a storybook, and smooth plywood on the ground that had the right amount of slip so Roman could glide and not fall when he wore his socks. It was more than perfect, it was magnificent! Regal! Everything Roman could ever dream of! 

Remus was off doing Remus-y things, so Roman figured he had an hour before he was beckoned to get Remus out of trouble. Probably less, considering his brother. 

Roman sighed. He would be fine. Hopefully Thomas had security measures in place. Hopefully the paper and pencils were hidden well. Hopefully no one else would die-

Roman shook his head violently, as if to jostle the notion out of his brain. 

Remus would be fine, Remus wouldn’t kill anyone again. Roman could relax. He glanced back up at the stage from the double doored entrance. 

The stage was immersed in the glorious spotlight, seemingly causing it to sparkle. Roman felt like he was floating as he stepped closer. He idly thought of Aurora about to prick her finger on the spindle. Perhaps this is how she felt the moments before her slumber...

Roman climbed the five steps to get up to the stage. It was more magical up close. Roman stood center stage. He closed his eyes, picturing an adoring crowd shouting his name. With roses being tossed onto the stage after an amazing show.   
Well, perhaps he should put on a show for all his lovely fans. It couldn’t hurt to really try this stage out. 

A song seemed to cue up in his head, and he almost felt he could hear it. 

Roman figured, what are you to do with a song but sing along?

The piano seemed to resonate in his brain and he slowly glided across the stage. 

“And I’m falling baby through the sky, through the sky. I’m falling baby through the skyyyy.” He did a slow twirl. “It’s my calling baby, don’t you cry, don’t you cry. And I’m falling down through the sky!”

He did a few sways and twirls, almost letting himself fall before quickly catching himself on his toes. 

“And I refuse to go numb...” He let himself spin on a foot as he waited for the violins to finish their mini solo. 

“Oh Broadway here I come! Broadway here I come! Broadway here I coooome! Broadway, Broadwayyy here I come! Here I cooooooome!” 

Roman could feel himself grinning ear to ear as he slid from right to left of the stage, almost feeling weightless. 

“And the last thing I hear as the impact grows near is it a scream or a cheeeeer? Well nevermind, I’ll never find out for Broadway I am here!” 

He spread his arms, and eyes closed, falling backwards. 

WHAM!

Roman landed directly onto his back, after a short plummet off the lip of the stage. Welp, that wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Oh my goodness! Are you okay?!” One of the older boys ran up next to him. Paxon? Pippin? Peyton? No that wasn’t right... Wow, he’s been in this house for three days and he still didn’t know anyone’s names other than his brother and Thomas. 

Roman winced as he sat up. “All good here, just a little trip!” 

The boy didn’t seem convinced as he pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Are you sure? That looked like it was from up high! I’m sure Thomas has a nurses’ office somewhere...” 

“Oh no, thank you though! I’m sure I’ll just have a bruise or two. I’ll be fine.” 

The boy still looked a bit worried. “Maybe we could make a deal then? If you’re still feeling bad after lunch, we get you some ice or something, if you’re not, maybe we could watch some tv?”

Roman shrugged. “Sure! My name’s Roman.” 

The boy smiled and offered a hand to help him up. “I’m Patton! It’s nice to formally meet you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! I'm going to try to stick to an upload schedule, so you can expect to see another chapter next Saturday! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D


	6. Treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I'm gonna stick to an update schedule!  
> Also Me: Misses the schedule instantly
> 
> Sorry about that guys! This is the second prompt in the prompt list I found from last chapter. (I'm not gonna link it every single chapter because that will get old real quick and it's the same list every time). 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Tws for the chapter:  
> Mention of an eldritch monster  
> Mention of blood  
> Mention of food (ice cream)

Remus was bored. He didn’t feel like drawing, which was weird. Usually all he wanted to do was draw and set his monsters free to terrorize anybody they could find! But now that there was a room which encouraged him to do so, it almost seemed...boring. Art block was a jerk. 

And he couldn’t just go destroy something because he didn’t have an audience! Roman was off gallivanting across the stage so Remus couldn’t even bug him! Roman wasn’t there to stop him from jumping into the pool! Roman wasn’t there to tell him not to draw! Roman wasn’t there. 

Remus let out a groan from his spot on his bed. 

There was nothing to do! 

He glanced at his latest unfinished piece in its spot on the wall. It was an eldritch monster of Remus’s own creation. It’s tentacles were sprayed out and its teeth were covered in human blood from it’s latest meal. 

Maybe Remus could get a snack… yeah. That was a good idea!

He hopped off his bed and dashed into the hallway. The kitchen was down the flight of stairs, past the foyer and to the… right. Remus recalled, stepping inside and hoping he got the directions right. 

He stepped inside, almost squinting in the brightly lit white room. The cabinets were a dark brown with white countertops. Geez, did these people really not expect Remus to come in and stain up the room? He would have to wait a while, so he would have a crowd to bask in the glory of red he’d make. 

Back to the task at hand. Remus passed the coffeemaker and opened the sparkling white refrigerator. 

Did this place have any ice cream? Or candy? Anything other than fruit and vegetables?

“The ice cream is on the lowest shelf in the freezer, right side.” 

Remus jumped and turned around. It was the little kid, Emile. 

“Oh hey! Thanks!” 

“But you're not supposed to have ice cream at noon. That’s lunchtime.” 

Remus shrugged, opening the freezer and finding prepackaged ice cream sandwiches, his favorite. 

“No one else is watching, so it’s fine.” 

“But-”

Remus grabbed two and shut the freezer. He turned around to the practically toddler. 

“You can have one too.” He offered one of the sandwiches to Emile, who looked on with wide eyes. 

“But-”

“C’mon kid, treat yourself!” 

Emile looked to the sandwich, to Remus, and back to the sandwich again. “Okay…” He grabbed the ice cream sandwich, and Remus grinned. 

This was going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.


	7. Sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Tw's for this chapter! 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!

The sun was hanging in the sky, almost seeming to smile against the blue sky. But, for whatever reason, it wasn’t unbearably hot. In fact, a breeze was blowing not unlike someone was standing in front of an air conditioner. 

The sky stretched seemingly forever above him, above an endless plain of sand. The sand reached up to the sky in waves. Perhaps it was an ocean, instead of sand… No, it was golden yellow, and it slipped out of fingers when held. 

He started his hike up one of the dunes, dragging his feet up. His feet seemed to sink a bit, and stick once he tried to pull his foot out again. 

Finally, he had reached the top, and he saw a black figure turned away. He took another step, only to fall and get cushioned by the sand. The figure laughed as he sat up correctly. 

The figure seemed familiar, with his black sunglasses and his white tee shirt underneath a black jacket. He couldn’t place the resemblance, no matter how hard he tried.

The figure grinned, the sun flashing in his sunglasses. His voice was muffled, as if underwater. 

“Wanna build a sandcastle with me?” 

A small sandcastle stood in front of the figure, with shells adorning the top and glistening in the sun. He smiled and reached to get another bit of sand. 

“ROMAAAAAAN! WAKE UP!” 

Roman’s eyes shot open as his twin jumped onto his stomach. 

“Oww. Remus, I was asleep…” Roman groaned, rubbing at his eye. 

“I know. Hence the wake up call.” Remus replied, sticking his tongue out. 

Roman shoved his twin off the bed. Remus landed with a thud and a giggle. “That’s the spirit! Now c’mon! I wanna get ice cream!” 

Roman’s head bounced off his pillow. “Ice cream?” 

Remus nodded.

Roman grinned. “Well, let’s go then! We can’t let it melt!” 

The twins giggled, running out of Roman’s room with determination. They slammed down the stairs and ran down the hall to the kitchen. They passed the living room, where one of the older boys was sitting on the couch with a video game. 

He had the very same black sunglasses and black jacket. The very same smile Roman saw in a dream.


	8. Salt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:   
> Pranks
> 
> If there are any others, let me know in the comments and I'll add it! :)
> 
> Still using the same prompt list as the last few chapters.

Today, like every day since he moved in, Logan woke up at precisely seven o clock am. Today, like everyday since he moved in, Logan straightened his tie before he left his room and went down to the kitchen. Today, like every day since he moved in, Logan prepared a cup of green tea. Thomas happened to stock many different kinds of tea, and Logan has found that green tea is the most optimal for his routine. He started boiling the water, saying good morning to Remy, one of the few people awake so early. 

“You gonna have a busy day hitting the books, babe?” Remy asked, sipping his seemingly bottomless thermos of coffee. 

“Why would I hit the books? That is a terrible way to take care of any book, especially books belonging to someone else.” 

The teapot screeched, and Logan quickly turned it off and began to pour it into his mug. 

“It’s a figure of speech Lolo.” 

Logan began to steep the tea bag into the teacup, flicking his wrist idly. 

“Ah, yes. I must remember to write that on my vocabulary cards.” 

Remy snickered. 

“You have vocabulary cards for figures of speech?” 

“I am in the process of learning some ‘fire’ slang words.” 

Logan scooped a bit of sugar with a teaspoon and placed it into his teacup, quickly stirring it to perfection. 

“Really? How many cards do you have so far?” 

“Ten. Once I add ‘hit the books’ it will be eleven.” 

“Lit.”

Logan nodded. “Yes, it is indeed ‘lit’. A celebratory sip of tea is in order.” Logan smiled to himself, and finally took a sip of his tea. 

Logan gagged and squeezed his eyes shut. He clenched his tea a bit harder, vaguely worrying he would break it. 

“You okay Lolo? Feeling a bit… salty, perhaps?” Remy smirked, holding in a laugh and sipping his own coffee innocently. 

“You replaced the sugar with salt.” Logan seethed. 

Remy snickered. “Of course not. What gave you that idea?” 

Logan’s entire face went bright red. He dumped his tea in the sink with a loud splash. He stomped out of the kitchen, leaving a laughing Remy in his wake.


	9. Clip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:   
> Crying??? idk man that's all I could come up with.

Emile was on a mission. It wasn’t as life threatening as a lot of his other missions. There were no bombs to diffuse or mob bosses to fight. If it were something as simple as bomb defusal he would have been done hours ago. But no. 

Emile had noticed that Virgil was feeling better after his first week sleeping off the exhaustion of staying up for three days straight. He seemed to be awake more often during the day, which meant Emile could talk to him more. 

They didn’t talk often, but when they did, Emile would always notice Virgil messing with his bangs approximately every two minutes. Virgil made a habit of trying to get his bangs out of his eyes so he could see better. 

Why didn’t he just cut them? Oh, he didn’t trust himself to cut his own hair. Why not? Because Virgil’s very fidgety and he’s worried he would mess them up too bad or poke his eyes out. Why didn’t he ask someone else to trim his bangs? He doesn’t trust anyone enough to come at his face with sharp objects. Did he like constantly moving the hair out of his eyes? No, he’s mildly annoyed and inconvenienced. Well, that won’t do!

“Em? You okay?” Virgil asked, before nudging his bangs out of his eyes, only for them to fall right back into place. 

Emile nodded and turned back to the show they were watching. 

Is there anyway to fix the problem without actually cutting hair? Yes. But how? 

Emile’s eyes lit up with the realization. He jumped off the couch. “I’ve got a thing bye!” he called, racing out of the room.

Virgil blinked for a minute in confusion, fiddled with his bangs, and then went back to his show. 

Emile ran down stairs to the art studio, quickly waving at Remus, who was at another table with colored pencils and sharpies. Emile snagged a bobby pin, a hot glue gun, mod podge, glitter, and a plastic skull ring. Then, he got to work. 

A few hours later, it was ready. 

“Virgil?”

The preteen in question removed one of his headphones from his ear and paused his ipod. “Yeah, Em? What’s up?” 

Emile giggled. “You are, silly!”

Virgil chuckled from his spot on top of the fridge before blowing his bangs out of his eyes. 

“Yeah. I’ll be right down.”

In a few moments, Virgil was on solid ground again, and Emile could hardly contain his excitement. 

“Alright, what’s going on, Em?” 

Emile moved his hands from behind his back, and showed him a bobby pin with a plastic skull attached to it. The skull was covered in black and purple sparkles, sealed using mod podge to make sure glitter didn’t fly everywhere. The plastic skull itself was fixed onto the bobby pin using hot glue to be certain it would stay. 

“I made it for you! So you don’t have to move your bangs all the time!” Emile explained. 

Virgil gingerly took the clip out of Emile’s hands and inspected it. 

“Do you like it?” Emile asked aloud. He had been so certain Virgil would, but he felt his confidence waver as he saw Virgil’s eyes begin to water. 

Virgil pulled Emile into a hug. “Em. I love it.”

Virgil released Emile and wiped his eyes. “Jeez I’m gonna mess up my eyeshadow.” he mumbled. He turned to the closest mirror and carefully swept his bangs into the clip and secured it. 

“We better move. Thomas will wanna use the kitchen to cook dinner soon.” Virgil said, grabbing Emile by the hand. Emile quickly squeezed his hand happily. 

“Oh, and Em?” Emile glanced up, finally able to see Virgil’s stormy gray eyes. “Thanks.” 

Emile couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. Mission accomplished!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! I hope you have a great day! :D


	10. Bread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that Asides episode was pretty crazy, huh? Not gonna spoil anything for those who haven't seen it, but I have a feeling it's gonna be a favorite for a while. 
> 
> Anyways, on to the tw's!  
> -Food 
> 
> That's kinda it. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

It was around nine pm when Janus went downstairs to the kitchen. There was nothing to do in his room, and Janus was hungry, so he went downstairs to grab a snack. 

He had been keeping tabs on the others’ schedules. Janus could never be too careful. He had no idea what kind of powers these people had. If the toddler could predict Janus’s powers within seconds of seeing him, who knows what the others were capable of. 

Logan, the eldest of the bunch, would probably be sticking in the library until ten, before he would go to his room. Patton, the second eldest would be in his room. He wandered around during the mornings, but ultimately returned to his room the majority of the time. Remy, the kid who insisted on wearing sunglasses inside, would be in the living room in the dark, drinking his coffee. He didn’t seem to move from that spot until after his thermos was empty, which was every half an hour. Janus had never seen him go to his room at night. Strange. Virgil, the little emo kid, would spend time with Remy until one am, when he would return to his room. The twins often watched an episode of tv with Emile, before his bedtime, nine thirty. After that, the twins would run around the stage until they got tired and went to bed. Thomas, of course, would be in his office, as he always was. By Janus’s calculations, Remy had refilled his coffee ten minutes ago, and wouldn’t be back for another twenty minutes. The kitchen should be empty. 

Janus quietly stepped into the kitchen. The hallways were clear, so Janus should be safe. He took a quick breath of relief, and glanced up. 

Logan was standing there, with an alarming amount of red on his mouth. Janus suppressed a scream, but it ended up coming out as a small yip. Logan jumped at the noise, fumbling with a jar and a spoon. There was a sharp shot of pain in Janus’s skull that made it hard to think. It went away quickly though, and Janus blinked in confusion. What just happened?

“Ah, apologies Janus. I was under the impression I was alone.” Logan stated, fixing his glasses with the same hand that was holding a spoon. 

“Yeah, same here. Are you… eating jam straight out of the jar?” Janus asked, holding his head lightly with one hand and pointing at the jar with the other. 

Logan glanced at the floor and wiped a bit of the jam off of his face.  
“Affirmative.” 

“Why?”

“It’s Crofters.” 

Janus blinked.  
“Is that supposed to mean something?”

Logan glared, though it looked more like a pout with smeared jam all over his face.  
“You don’t know the glory that is Crofters, the only jelly I will put in my belly.” 

Janus rolled his eyes. “Look, I’ll have a bit, on bread, like a normal person, and see if you’re right. If I disagree, we can have a debate.” 

Logan grabbed another jar from the fridge. “As much as I love a good debate, there will be no need. You see, Crofters-” 

“I don’t care, Lo. Just give me the damn jar.” Janus insisted, tossing a piece of bread into the toaster. Logan gave him the jar, and Janus spread a bit of jam onto his toast. He sighed and took a bite. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Okay so maybe you were right.”

“I KNEW IT!”


	11. Fish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws: 
> 
> -sharp teeth

“Uh, Remus, what are you doing?” 

Remus glanced up at Patton, who was nervously adjusting his glasses. He smiled, kicking his feet from his spot on the pool coping.   
“Fishing.” 

“Why?” 

Remus shrugged, holding onto his fishing rod a bit tighter. “Seemed fun.” 

“But… that’s the pool.” 

Remus nodded.

“And fish can’t survive in chlorine.” 

“Maybe yours don’t.” 

As if to prove his point, three piranhas jumped out of the water, snapping their teeth wildly. The piranhas were cream colored, with a few blue lines running across their scales. The scales didn’t seem realistic either, just little gray semi circles on their backs. The eyes were little gray dots. The most detail seemed to be in their teeth, which were expertly shaded and shined. 

Patton couldn’t help backing up a few steps in alarm.   
“Remus. What are those?” 

“They are my crocs!” Remus quoted, grinning wider. 

At that moment, three crocodiles, drawn with the same amount of detail as the piranhas roared and jumped into the air. The crocodiles were much bigger, easily being the same width as Patton’s arms. 

“Well, those are my crocs, but you get the picture.” Remus amended, waving a hand dismissively. 

“How?” Patton whispered. 

“‘The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources’ -Albert Einstein.” Remus recited, turning back to his fishing rod. 

Patton looked at the ten year old like he had sprouted three heads. 

“What does that even mean?” 

“Dunno. I think I saw it on a fortune cookie once.” 

Patton blinked for a second, feeling a headache coming on. 

“You know, kiddo, have fun. Just remember to clean those up later. Thomas probably doesn’t want fish in his pool.” 

Remus simply waved in response, and Patton went back upstairs.


	12. Race

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty Backstory time!!!  
> Once in a while I like writing these because it either fits the prompt well or I just felt like it. So if you start wondering "Wait, where's the gang? They aren't trapped in the house?" That's why. I hope that makes things a bit clearer!
> 
> Tw's:  
> -Isolation/Loneliness  
> -Bullying  
> -Gore  
> If you are uncomfortable with gore, skip starting with "If they wanted to see monsters.. they would see monsters." and pick back up at "Remus couldn't stop smiling." 
> 
> All of the other tw's are pretty baked in there. I hope this helps, guys! Happy reading and stay safe!

Life was like a race. People just kept running until they were done. Running and running and running. But it doesn’t stop. There are no breaks. If someone were to try and stop for a bit of water, they would be berated. They would be stepped on. Suddenly the crowd you were running for swoops down like vultures and tear you to bits. 

At least, that’s how Remus saw it. 

It started, like most things do, in kindergarten. Remus wasn’t what you would call popular. He knew all the kids in his class by name. He knew their favorite colors and whether they bought lunch or brought it from home. He knew the major players of friend groups. He just wasn’t one of them. 

But that was okay! Everyone always said it was good to be unique. So Remus and Roman had each other, and that was okay! They ran the race side by side, happy to be there together. But soon, that wasn’t enough for Roman. 

As they learned to write, weird things began happening. Mrs. Johnson brought in a unicorn. Billy got a hamster. Everyone dressed up as Disney Princesses for Halloween, even the boys. Remus and Roman made a great Anna and Elsa. Mr. Contemptible got fired after teaching for longer than most of the other teachers had been alive. The weirdest part was that Roman kept predicting the weird things that would happen. 

It was cool, sure! Being the twin of a psychic was awesome! They got ice cream for dinner whenever they wanted! Toys fell from the sky! And promptly broke because they weren’t supposed to fall from that high. But it was the thought that counted! Everything was great!

But in the years that followed, Roman kept running faster and faster. He got good grades on tests. He made friends with everyone! Even the mean kids were his friends! 

But now that everybody loved Roman, Remus was just a face out in the crowd. They didn’t hang out as often. Roman got invited to birthday parties. Roman got to go to the movies with his new friends. It was Roman this and Roman that. Roman Roman Roman. 

Remus’s parents suddenly expected so much. They were disappointed when Remus did as well as he always did. They were disappointed when Remus had to stay home while Roman had to go to a party because then they actually had to spend time with him. They were disappointed when Remus showed them art, the only thing he could do right. They were always disappointed in him. 

Now it was fourth grade. Remus sat alone on the wood chips, drawing with his notebook specifically used for drawing. He didn’t need this one for school. It was old and ratty, which was part of the appeal. He drew, not entirely sure what he was making, just that it had sharp fangs. 

“Hey Remus.” 

Remus glanced up for barely a moment. It was Billy and his cronies. Billy didn’t like his drawings. And he had this weird thing that made all his words sound like insults. Remus hated being insulted. He turned back to his drawing, making a squiggle on his head for hair… or a tentacle. Remus wasn’t sure yet. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, dork!” Billy scooped up some wood chips and threw them at him. His cronies laughed mockingly. 

Remus shut his eyes for a second to avoid gouging his eyes out. Once the wood chips had fallen, he went back to his drawing without looking up. “Did you know dork means whale p-”

“NO BODY CARES!” Billy shouted. Remus didn’t look up, but he was certain Billy was scrunching up his nose and his face was turning red. “And look at me when I’m talking to you!” Billy snatched the notebook out of Remus’s hands. 

“That’s mine. Give it back.” Remus said, extending his hand.

Billy and his cronies laughed. “Nuh uh. This isn’t yours. It’s garbage! And it deserves to be shredded!” Billy announced, turning it around so Remus could see his unfinished picture. He put one hand holding the page and one hand holding the notebook.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion. The laughter echoed in Remus’s brain. The paper ripped. Slowly. All his hard work. The only thing he was actually good at, getting destroyed right before his eyes. At the hands of these monsters! 

Remus started laughing. Uncontrollable laughter that bubbled up from deep inside that couldn’t be suppressed. Laughter that could almost be heard in the next town over. 

If they wanted to see monsters… they would see monsters.

The next few moments were a blur of screaming and red. The fangs sunk into them and bit by bit, they were ripped to pieces. 

Remus couldn’t stop smiling. His right eye kept trying to close, only to twitch open again. He couldn’t stop giggling through the rest of the day. 

The police showed up, along with animal control. But the monsters disappeared once the deed was done. Nobody quite understood what happened that day. 

But Remus understood all too well. He had finally caught up to Roman. They were together again, running the race, ignoring the trail of blood behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading/kudos-ing! It really makes my day! 
> 
> Have a good one and enjoy the new Asides episode!


	13. Poor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another backstory chapter guys. This one takes place a few weeks before the events of Chapter 1. 
> 
> Tws for the chapter:
> 
> -Homelessness  
> -Pickpocketing/Stealing  
> -Food (mention)

Janus had been homeless for almost six months. Not that Janus was actually counting days anymore. His sense of time was pretty much shot anyway. That was why he wasn’t entirely sure when he was found out. 

It was a hot day, almost hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. Janus considered going to the mall, if only so he didn’t fry, but he figured it would be easier to blend in at the convention center. At least there, he wasn’t looked on with disdain or disgust. 

The third or so person was walking a bit slower than most, just enough to be annoying. He had tan skin and brown hair, with a red short sleeve shirt. His wallet was sticking out of his pocket. It was like taking candy from a baby!

Janus carefully grabbed the wallet and walked into an alley. He opened the wallet and glanced at its contents. Janus’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

There were ten hundred dollar bills. In cash. There weren’t even any ones! Half of this could cover expenses for two weeks! Maybe three if he went to McDonalds every day!

He took five of the bills, zipped open his jacket pocket, stuffed the bills in and zipped it closed. He raced out of the alley, holding the wallet aloft.

“Sir! Sir! I think you’ve dropped your wallet!” 

The guy glanced behind him as Janus ran a few feet to catch up. The guy’s eyes lit up with the realization.

“Oh, thank you! I hadn’t even realized I had dropped it!” The man took his wallet back and focused on Janus’s scales. “Wow, those are amazing! What kind of makeup do you use?” 

Janus almost smiled genuinely. Almost. “Oh I just used whatever I could get my hands on, you know? It’s an amalgamation of a few different eyeshadows and eyeliners.”

The man nodded. Janus noticed he had two teardrop tattoos under his eye. Interesting…

“I love your tattoo!” Janus gushed.  
He gasped. “Oh my gosh thanks! Could I get you something to eat, for returning my wallet and all?” 

Wow, really? Five hundred dollars and a free lunch? When had Janus won the lottery for marks?

“Oh I couldn’t possibly-”

“Oh I insist! Here, I know this great pizza place down the street!”

Janus smirked. It was just too easy…

Little did Janus know his life was about to change forever.


	14. Rich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:
> 
> -Organs (specifically brains)  
> -Prescribed medication  
> -Neglectful Parenting  
> -Mentioned overdose  
> -Mentioned suicide attempt  
> -death
> 
> Strap on in guys. This chapter isn't a super cheery one.

It wasn’t a secret that Logan’s family was rich. In fact, it was one of the first things Logan had ever noticed without getting a migraine. Whether it was the bodyguards tailing him as he went to school or the wide eyed looks from classmates whenever he pulled something out from his backpack, it was clear he was different.

The second he found out what money was he thought “Ah, so that’s it. That’s why people think I’m different.” 

It only got worse when he got glasses. Before he got glasses, he would see simple pink blobs over people’s heads. The blobs would have a few gray spots, and some paler areas. He assumed everyone saw these. Afterall, who wouldn’t? 

It only became apparent he was radically different when he was at the park with Miss Valerie, his caretaker, a few days after his fifth birthday. He had mentioned that there was an abnormal amount of gray spots in the haze of the woman across the way, and he thought it was interesting. 

“Logan. What do you mean by gray spots?” 

“The gray spots. Usually there’s more red or pink.” 

Miss Valerie grew concerned, and asked him to point out other colors over the heads. So he did, and he was almost annoyed that she couldn’t see it herself. 

“Miss Valerie, everyone has pink blobs. Even you. You have less gray than the lady across the way, but more than all the kids in my class.”  
The next day Miss Valerie went to talk to Mother and Father, and Logan went for an eye exam. The day after that, he tried his glasses on for the first time. 

All the glasses did was magnify the blobs until they made Logan sick to look at. 

Now they were pinker with red wavy indents. Logan would call them circles because he didn’t have a better word to describe it, but they were floppy and had misshapen edges. 

Miss Valerie looked at him strangely whenever he recoiled from her blob, pursing her lips and scrunching up her nose. When she asked what the problem was, Logan would explain that her blob was gross, and that everyone’s blobs were gross.

She talked to Mother and Father again, and before he could ask what was going on, he was talking to the grossest blob he’d ever seen. It looked like it was practically turning to dust. The blob called himself a “therapist” and said he was going to “make Logan better”. Logan was fine thank you very much. There was nothing wrong with him at all. 

The Blob, or Dr. Blobby as Logan liked to call him, asked about blobs and Logan told him all that he wanted to know. Dr. Blobby’s white mustache wrinkled in disgust and suddenly Logan had to take some sort of medicine every day. 

The next four years were a blur. Try as he may, to this day Logan can’t remember a single thing that happened during those four years. 

The first thing he can remember is waking up and the burning in his chest and the sound of sirens. Several blobs had surrounded him, and then his vision went black. 

Logan woke up again in the hospital two days later. The doctors were using the words “overdose” and “suicide attempt”. He never had to take the medicine after that. Miss Valerie asked him about it once, and Logan simply said he didn’t remember. She asked him if he still saw the blobs. He said he could. 

Logan was handed a pencil, a piece of paper, and a box of crayons. 

“Can you draw a blob for me, Logan?” Miss Valerie had asked. 

So he did. He tried as best he could and colored it all pink once he was done. It didn’t look anything like the real thing, and if Logan were frank, it looked like a fourth grader drew it. That shouldn’t be surprising considering he was nine now, but still. 

Miss Valerie took the picture gingerly and studied it. She left the room and brought a photograph back. 

“Is this what a blob looks like?” 

She showed him the photograph, and it was. It was a blob! Right there on the page! It wasn’t glowing like Miss Valerie’s, and it didn’t have a lot of gray, but it was a blob!

“That’s a brain, Logan. You see them all the time?” Miss Valerie asked. Logan nodded. 

Life seemed to get better after that. Logan dropped out of school and got a private tutor, Mister Terrence. Mister Terrence was nice, and he let Logan learn whenever he wanted. He taught Logan all about brains. Mister Terrence was a brain surgeon, the best money could buy. For five years he taught Logan all he could. 

Logan felt like an idiot for not understanding most of it during the first year. When Logan would slam the table in frustration, Mister Terrence would go back to the basics and explain how the nervous system worked. If Logan started crying, Mister Terrence would try to cheer him up.

“You know Logan, most kids your age wouldn’t even know how to multiply. It’s okay. Heck, I didn’t learn most of this stuff until I was nineteen!”

This was life for the next five years. He would wake up at seven, start his lessons at eight, and work until eight pm when Mister Terrence had to go home. A few months after his fourteenth birthday, Mister Terrence suggested he try a college placement test for neuroscience. If he did well, Mister Terrence would help him write a research paper. This research paper could let him go into an actual medical school. He could be a doctor. Well, in another five years. But still! A doctorate at nineteen! 

Logan was so excited. He even invited his parents to when Mister Terrence would announce his grade. He studied and studied and he took the test and he felt great.

Mister Terrence was going to grade his test and get it back to him by the end of the week. Miss Valerie was helping Logan set up a ceremony. They decorated the library with streamers and balloons. They set up four chairs and a podium. A chair for Logan, Miss Valerie, and each of his parents. Logan knocked on the door of Father’s office three times per day and slipped a note under the door like an invitation. He did the same for Mother’s office as well.

The day of the announcement, Mister Terrence walked in, chuckled at the grandeur of it all, and stepped up to the podium. 

He tapped the microphone, and Logan scooted to the edge of his seat in excitement. 

“Logan Berry the Third, you have received a....”

Logan’s eyes started hurting from not blinking.

“100 percent! You better pick your research topic buddy because we’re writing a paper!” 

Logan jumped and shouted for joy. He did it! He did it! He did it! Miss Valerie made a cake and they partied and it was perfect. 

Well, almost. 

His parents hadn’t shown. In fact, he didn’t see either of his parents for three months after the announcement. 

Mother was racing through the halls, carrying dozens of books in her arms. Her brain was lighting up crazily. Logan had gotten directly in front of her, spreading his arms out as if she were a moving vehicle. She glanced up a split second before she would have crashed into him and rolled her eyes. 

“What do you want Logan? I am very busy.” 

“Why didn’t you go to my announcement ceremony?” Logan asked. There was no use dancing around the subject after all, this was the first time he had seen her in months. He wouldn’t get another chance.

“What announcement ceremony?”

“The announcement on my placement test. The announcement of whether or not I was going to start my doctorate studies of neuroscience at age fourteen. That announcement!”

She blinked. “Of course. That announcement ceremony. I’ll be there Logan sweetie, but right now I’m very busy and-”

“It was three months ago.” 

She sighed. 

“I’ll go to the next one but right now I am late for a meeting and-”

“No you won’t.” 

She stopped. “What?”

“You won’t go to the next one because you don’t care. It is a miracle you even know my name. Last I saw you I was twelve.” 

She scoffed. “Logan you are twelve, don’t be silly.” 

“I’m fourteen. That was two years ago. You don’t even know my birthday!” 

She thought for a moment. “January 8th?” 

“My birthday is in November. November!” 

She rolled her eyes. “Great. Now that we’ve had this lovely conversation I must be going. I am late for a meeting.” 

With that, she pushed past Logan and kept walking. 

Logan felt like his skin was boiling. He stared daggers into the back of his mother’s skull. He saw the brain tremble a bit. He envisioned tiny knives piercing the brain and hurt her just as much as she hurt him after all these years. STAB STAB STAB!

She suddenly stopped walking. She fell forward, her books falling out of her hands. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Turns out Logan could do more than just see brains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!   
> I hope you have an amazing day! :D


	15. Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back to the current time! 
> 
> Tw's:
> 
> -Panic Attack  
> -Negative Self-Talk  
> -Light mentions of abandonment  
> -Hyperventilating  
> -Chasing  
> -Jumping off a roof  
> -Medical needle  
> -Tranquilizers
> 
> To skip the negative self talk and mention of abandonment skip the paragraph starting with "Of course Remy" and pick back up at "Virgil that's not true."
> 
> Buckle up guys, this is gonna be bad for everyone involved!

It had been almost three weeks since moving day, and everyone had settled into a semi-schedule. No one believed there was any possible cause for alarm, and why would they? No one had a clue of what was to happen that fateful day. 

Virgil had helped Remy grab a coffee cup off the highest shelf. While Virgil was younger by almost a year, Remy was about two inches shorter, and he often asked Virgil to help him out. 

“Thanks Andy. I seriously needed some coffee.” Remy grabbed the mug from Virgil’s hands and turned to the coffee maker. 

“Andy?” 

Remy blinked, before realizing his mistake. “Oh crap. Sorry Virgil. Andy was a kid I went to school with. You looked like him for a second.” He poured the coffee into the mug. “I must be going through withdrawals, I haven’t had a cup in two hours.”

Virgil’s eyes were the size of saucers. “You...knew Andy?” 

Remy nodded and took a sip. “Yeah. He was a year older than me and ran a club I was in. I took one look at the guy and said ‘Welp, I’m gay’.” He chuckled to himself. He looked up at Virgil, who had wrapped his arms around himself and started hyperventilating. “Virgil? Are you oka-”

“Of course Remy likes him more than you you absolute moron everyone likes him more than you because you’re a worthless piece of garbage who has no reason to even be alive that’s why they left you isn’t it? You just weren’t good enough for them and you weren’t good enough for Dad and they’re all better off without me-” Virgil mumbled almost all in one breath, his voice getting shakier and louder and starting to echo. The room seemed to get five degrees colder. 

Remy put his mug on the counter and started to walk closer. “Virgil? Virgil. C’mon buddy, deep breaths.” 

“I’m worthless I’m worthless I’m worthless and-” Virgil just kept mumbling and the room just kept getting colder. 

“Virgil that’s not true. C’mon buddy, inhale for four seco-.” Remy placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. 

“ENOUGH!” Virgil growled. A purple wave of energy emitted from Virgil’s form, blasting into Remy and swallowing him whole. The purple drained from Remy and he collapsed onto the floor. 

Virgil froze and looked at his friend’s unconscious body. He started hyperventilating faster and climbed on top of the fridge. He curled up into a ball and started rocking, attempting to soothe himself. 

Janus walked in and looked around, confused. “Uh, is everything okay in here-”

A wave of purple energy slammed into Janus. He blinked and shook his head clearer. A purple critter the size of a small dog appeared at his feet. It had a pointed nose, beady black eyes and sharp fangs. It was an opossum, and it didn’t look very friendly. 

Janus’s eyes bugged out so wide that they threatened to fall out of his skull. A second opossum appeared next to the first one, and then a third, and a fourth. Soon there were dozens of opossums on the kitchen floor. Janus seemed to finally snap out of his shock and start running. 

The opossums of course, started chasing, running across Remy’s unconscious body and following a sprinting Janus up the stairs. 

He raced up the stairs three at a time, wincing at the many scratch marks the opossums managed to leave on his ankles. He ran past Emile, screaming “I JUST WANTED A GLASS OF WATER! OW! WHY?!”.

He threw the door to his room open and slammed it closed. He pried his window open and climbed out onto the roof of the house. He looked at the pool twenty feet below him. He glanced back at his door, which the opossums had started biting through. He ran off the roof, screaming and praying that he would land in the water. 

He landed with a grunt onto an orange platform not unlike a slide and slid onto the grass. Thomas was outside, a bead of sweat on his brow. Emile was standing next to him looking at Janus with a frown. Thomas waved his hand dismissively and the platform disappeared. 

“Lemme guess. Virgil?” Thomas asked.

Janus simply hyperventilated more. “I-I don’t- th-there were OPOSSUMS!” He started crying, motioning towards the roof. 

Thomas sighed. “Good to know. Where is he?” 

“He’s in the kitchen, on top of the fridge.” Emile supplied helpfully. 

Thomas nodded gratefully before walking inside. He made a beeline for the kitchen. On the way, he made a light barrier around himself, just far enough from his skin that he couldn’t feel it, but tight enough that it wouldn't hinder his movements. 

He entered the kitchen, stepping over Remy and ignoring Patton’s screams as he banged and sobbed on a purple mirror. Thomas didn’t inspect the mirror, but he saw someone inside it out of the corner of his eye. He stopped in front of the refrigerator, looking up at Virgil’s perch. 

“Virgil? Would you mind coming down from there?” 

Virgil didn’t seem to hear him, only hyperventilating harder. A purple tendril slammed against Thomas’s barrier uselessly. 

“Virgil. You need to come down here okay?”

Virgil shook his head rapidly. 

“Okay, that’s okay. I’ll come up there.” Thomas climbed onto the counter and stood eye level with Virgil. “You want this all to stop right? Want this to be over for today?” 

Virgil nodded, still rocking. 

Thomas carefully took a syringe out of his pocket and made sure the barrier covered his fingers and not the tip of the needle. 

“This is only gonna hurt for a second, okay?” 

Virgil’s eyes remained unfocused, rocking a bit faster. Thomas grabbed his arm and rolled up the sleeve. He plunged the syringe into Virgil’s arm, whispering a quick “I’m sorry, Virge.”. Virgil’s eyes drooped and he fell into Thomas’s arms, asleep. 

The mirror turned to dust and disappeared, leaving Patton at a loss for what to do. Remy jolted awake with a shout. He glanced up at Thomas, who took Virgil off of the fridge and started leaving the kitchen. 

“You’re too calm for this! How are you this calm?!” Remy screeched at Thomas, who had balanced Virgil in a bridal carry. 

Thomas chuckled. “Did you seriously think I wouldn’t have a plan for this sort of thing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeesh, I wonder what childhood trauma Virgil had to go through to make him react like that. Any of you have any guesses?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Have an amazing day/night/afternoon/whatever time it is when you read this! :D


	16. Vault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:
> 
> -Mention of jumping out of windows  
> -Mentions of Zombies

In case of emergencies, Thomas had made sure to get a room in the basement a special classification. It had reinforced doors that were around a foot wide. It had plenty of rations, approximately enough to last all nine of them a full year. It had one entrance and exit, and security cameras for the rest of the house. The only things it lacked were any mirrors, paper, or writing utensils. It could only be opened through a voice recognition software, and if there was anyone inside the vault, they would need to let the intruder inside. If anything were to possibly go wrong, anyone unaffected were instructed to head downstairs, get inside and wait for Thomas’s signal that it was safe. Thomas had dubbed it the Vault. 

Remus thought it was stupid. There was nothing fun to do, and all of the food sections were locked. Something about the room logging whether or not it was “necessary” to eat. There was nothing to do!

He made this abundantly clear for his twin when they were instructed to get inside as fast as possible. 

“Remus, can’t you just be patient? I’m sure Thomas will give us the okay to leave soon.” Roman said, pinching his nose in annoyance after Remus’s seventh complaint.

“But it’s so boring!” Remus whined.

“Remus, it has been FIVE MINUTES. SHUT UP!” Roman slammed the control panel, which thankfully did not break. 

“But Romaaaan. I wanna see the zombies!” 

“There are no zombies.”

“Then why has Patton been screaming for the last hour?” 

“It has only been five minutes and I DON’T KNOW! Stop asking!” 

Roman looked up at the security camera feeds in front of him and his eyes focused on one of the panels. 

“Janus is jumping out the window.”

Remus gasped and ran over. “Oh my god, FINALLY something exciting happens!” He quickly glanced at all the screens until finding the one from the yard. Janus jumped, before an orange slide appeared underneath him. He slid down onto the grass. 

“Aw BOO! LAME!” Remus jeered, going back to his corner. 

Roman sighed. 

“Do you wanna play the Story Game?” 

Remus instantly perked up. “Yes yes yes!”

Roman laughed. “Okay I’ll start. There…”  
“Once”  
“Was”  
“A”   
“Dragon” Roman flourished with his hands, causing Remus to giggle.   
“Who”  
“Hated”  
“Zombies” Remus winked. Roman rolled his eyes fondly.  
“So”  
“They”  
“Made”  
“A”  
“Spell” Remus rolled his eyes at Roman, who huffed in response. “What? It was a good word!”   
Remus scoffed. “It was a predictable word.”   
Roman crossed his arms. “Your turn.”  
Remus pondered for a moment.  
“That”  
“Would”  
“Kill” Roman squeaked at this word, and Remus cackled. “What? Afraid of a little conflict in our story?”   
Roman rolled his eyes. “All”  
“Necromancers!” Roman nodded at this word.   
“Well, yeah. That makes sense. Then there would be no one to raise the zombies.”  
Remus stuck his tongue out. “Duh! That’s what I meant! Your word!”   
“But”  
Remus snickered.   
“NOT THAT KIND OF BUTT!” Roman shouted. Remus only cackled harder.   
“They”  
“Were”  
“Missing”  
“An”  
“Ingredient”  
“Which”  
“Was”   
Roman thought for a moment. “Tears”  
“Of”  
“A”  
“Widow” Remus finished, nodding to himself.  
“Where are they gonna get the tears of a widow?” Roman wondered aloud.   
“That’s the point of the game, dummy. To figure it out together!” Remus cheered.   
“I’m not a dummy.” Roman pouted.   
“Are too.”  
“Am not.”  
“Are too.”  
“Am not.”  
“Are too.”  
“Am not!” 

“Everyone! It’s safe to come out now!” Emile’s voice came on over the speaker.   
The twins looked at eachother.   
“To be continued?” Roman asked.  
“To be continued, dummy.” Remus said with a smirk, before running out of the vault.   
“I AM NOT A DUMMY!”


	17. Crime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:  
> -Mentions of Murder  
> -Mentions of criminal justice system  
> -Mentions of a child being separated from their parent
> 
> It's tragic backstory time.

Ever since Larry had laid eyes on his son, he knew he was special. Well, how could he not be? He was Larry’s kid after all! There was no way he and Dot could have a kid without any quirks or prowess. 

Larry just didn’t expect little Emile to be so articulate at two weeks old. By the time Larry’s paternity leave was up, Emile was walking, talking, and sitting up all by himself! It was a medical marvel! Any quick google search told the parents it was impossible for Emile to be doing anything he was doing at his age.

So Larry went to work. He was a police officer, or a crime fighter, as he liked to tell Emile. The way his eyes would light up meant the world to Larry. “You’re like me! Superhero!” He would shout. Larry let a smile slip onto his face at the thought. 

“Larry. Murder case. Focus!” Corbin, his partner snapped. 

“Right, sorry. What’s happening?”

After Corbin had debriefed him for the second time, Larry sat at his desk and researched every possible person. 

The victim had been the leader in the race for prom queen, Julie Jenkins. She seemed to be a sweet senior, and almost the entire school liked her. Though Larry knew it was probably pity due to the fact that Julie had lost her leg in an accident earlier that year. It was nearly a week before the night of the prom, and the school had been tossed into mourning. But who was responsible? 

It had either been someone who had fought with Julie (unlikely, all of the students practically worshiped her), or one of the other seven girls in the running for prom queen. 

Corbin and Larry interrogated the girls, and none of them confessed, each claiming she had no idea why anyone would do this to Julie. 

Larry went home, dozens of questions swimming around in his head. He sat down at the dinner table dejectedly. 

“Are you alright, Larry dear? Bad day at work?” Dot asked, picking at her food. 

Larry sighed. “It’s a tough one is all. It’s gonna take some time to crack but soon we’ll find the-”  
“It was Sara Berry.” 

The table fell silent. Dot and Larry looked at Emile, in his high chair and trying to hold his bottle with his small hands.

“What was that Em?” Dot blinked, glancing back and forth from Larry to Emile.

“The case. Sara Berry. She wanted to be prom queen, so she took out her biggest competition, Julie.” Emile explained, attempting to raise his bottle. Larry picked it up for him, almost in shock. 

The next day, Sara Berry was arrested, the murder weapon in her locker. 

It was the same thing with every case Larry was on. If he even said a word about his case, Emile would just… give him the answer. Sure, Larry would have to find the evidence to get himself there, but it was just so much easier to find the guilty parties. It was like doing homework with an answer sheet. If you knew the equation, and you knew the answer, all you had to do was work backwards. 

After the fifth time working backwards, Corbin started catching on. “Larry, how do you do it? You know the perp the day after finding the body. It doesn’t make sense!” 

Larry simply laughed. “What can I say? I’m just a genius!”

Corbin shook his head. “This isn’t a normal thing Larry. One day you’ll mess with the wrong people and the courts are gonna arrest you for wrongful persecution.” 

“Well, it would be wrongful persecution if I was ever wrong. But I am never wrong.” Larry smirked. 

But he wasn’t careful. People caught on to his sudden success, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had changed in Larry’s life. 

The government had taken Emile before his first birthday. Larry had been kicked off the force. Just like that, Larry’s life felt like it was over. 

Behind every great fortune there is crime. And that fortune was snatched away before the Picanis could even treasure it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for commenting/kudos-ing, and reading in general. It really makes my day. 
> 
> Have an amazing day, and to everyone who celebrated, Happy Belated Halloween/Día de los Muertos/All Saints Day!


	18. Photograph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:
> 
> -Self deprecation  
> -Mentions of storm  
> -Mentions of sibling separation  
> -Death
> 
> If you would like to skip the actual death, skip from the paragraph starting with "He could see it" and pick back up at "Patton wiped his eyes"
> 
> Stay safe everyone!

The night of Virgil’s...episode, Patton couldn’t sleep. Memories just kept bubbling up to the surface. Memories he spent years trying to suppress just appeared, clear as day. It was like he picked up a photo album and started flipping through. Just pictures of moments that embedded themselves in Patton’s memory. Each picture was more painful than the last. 

The first photo was just a Christmas. Back in the old house. He was… little. Maybe Emile’s age? Maybe a year older? In any case, Patton was helping set up the tree. He hung up the little baubles, whining if he wanted to be lifted higher to reach a higher branch. His dad had smiled and compiled until it was “perfect”. Even little toddler age Missy clapped her hands and mom helped her put the star on the tree. It was great, in every sense of the word. 

Patton tossed and turned in bed for the upteenth time. He had to stop thinking about it and just go to sleep. Stop thinking about them. 

It would be easier if he made a pillow fort. 

Like the one he and Missy would make every time a storm raged outside because she was always scared of thunder. That tradition started when Missy was four, when she came crying into Patton’s room because the storm was gonna get her. Patton had done the only thing he could think of. Mom found them trapped in a tumble of blankets and pillow fluff. She had snickered and Dad came in and they all made a fort together. A solid one this time. They were always so happy together. 

Until he messed it up. 

He sighed. He didn’t need to be revisiting the good times. The good times led to bad times led to worse times led to… this.

What was this? The people were nice if they talked. When they didn’t, which was most of the time, Patton was just… alone. Was that good?

It was better than being around people. First it was Mom and Dad. Then Missy. Would these people be next? Once he gets attached these people would be ripped away from him too? 

Well, Thomas said something about being able to leave when he turned eighteen. That was in three years. So long as nothing happened to them in three years, it would be okay. 

It only took two years for Missy to be pried away. 

Which wouldn’t have happened in the first place if Patton hadn’t-

He could see it, like a picture was being shoved in his face. The shock on his parents’ faces. The writhing and choking and clawing at the mirror for a way out. The life in their eyes draining until their eyes were nothing but hollow orbs. Then they slowly fogged and disappeared, like they were never there in the first place. Missy’s frantic shaking on Patton’s arm as he desperately tried to fix it.

Patton wiped his eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure when he started crying. That happened whenever he thought of that night. 

He tilted his head to the right a bit, eyes straining to make out the blurry digits on his clock. The tears didn’t help his already compromised vision. He managed to read a one and the little colon before two other red blurbs. Just around one am. Maybe someone would be awake? Unlikely, but he could always use a glass of water. 

He wiped his red eyes and grabbed his glasses from the nightstand. He walked downstairs, trying to put the album of memories away for the night.


	19. Quill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:
> 
> -Mentions of neurochemicals  
> -Mentions of stabbing

Logan got up out of bed and after his usual tea routine (now including taste testing the sugar before he put it in his tea), and went up to the library. He picked up one of the brain chemistry books and read it over and over. 

It was about the guilt response, it’s difference to shame and chemicals involved in both processes. 

It was fascinating, or maybe it wasn’t. At this point, Logan didn’t care. It was imperative he finished this textbook and started on his second paper. He wouldn’t let being tossed out of his home, the absence of his teacher, and the annoying chatter of a ten year old-

When did he get there?

At some point, Remus had sat down next to him and started blathering about some sort of drawing he had made. Logan snapped out of his internal monologue and started listening to what he was saying.

“And so the quills are gonna be machetes to get ultra mega stab power!” Remus said showing off a doodle of what seemed to be a porcupine with highly detailed quills that looked suspiciously like knives. The porcupine itself wasn’t extremely detailed, with little gray dots for eyes and a sharp toothed smile, with incredibly detailed teeth. 

“Excellent work Remus. It is sure to have maximum damage output.” Logan said, turning back to his textbook and rereading the past section. 

The guilt response actually contains the same process of one of the lesser known fear responses, the Challenge Response. Like other fear responses, the Challenge Response releases stress hormones (adrenaline and cortisol) to get people going. It also releases oxytocin, which calms and motivates to connect with others. In addition, DHEA is released to help the person learn from the situat-OW!

Logan winced and looked up from his textbook. There was a small, thin, almost paper like knife sticking out of his tricep. It wasn’t bad, in fact, it would probably be fine if he had a bandage once it was removed. 

He looked to Remus, whose porcupine was no longer a drawing and was in fact sitting on the table. Its size hadn’t changed, but one of the machetes had disappeared, presumably the one that was now in Logan’s arm. 

Remus flicked his fingers at Logan with a smile. Another quill catapulted out of the porcupine and into another spot on Logan’s arm. 

“Please refrain from doing that again. I have work I need to attend to.” 

Remus stuck his tongue out. “We’re stuck here. There’s nothing that could possibly need your attention.” He flicked his finger again, another quill embedding itself into Logan’s tricep. 

Logan almost screamed, only reigning it in with the thought that this was a library. No one was allowed to scream in libraries. No matter how infuriating getting stabbed with living paper was. He took a deep breath, eyes landing to the passage in his textbook. 

Maybe… he could try it? Don’t flood the brain with neurochemicals, just… barely a drop in the correct place…

He focused on Remus’s brain, painfully bright with activity and youth. He focused on the adrenaline and cortisol producers. Nothing too extreme, anything too extreme he could drop dead. Then a touch of oxytocin. Mix in a bit of DHEA. That should make Remus feel guilty enough to try to fix his mistake and leave Logan alone. 

Remus blinked a bit. He glanced at the porcupine, the quills in Logan’s arm, and back to the porcupine. He frowned. 

“I’ve made a huge mistake.”

“I’m glad you see it that way. Now if you don’t mind-”

“I’ve hurt my poor little Choppy the Porcupine!”

Remus picked up the porcupine and tried to hug it, seemingly unaware of the small machetes poking his arms. Logan’s jaw nearly hit the floor. 

“Excuse me?!”

“I made him shoot one of his limbs! That’s gotta hurt! Imma give him more machete quills! That’ll make him feel better!” Remus decided, putting down the porcupine on the page and turning it back into a regular drawing. 

“But-”

“Bye Logan! I’ve gotta find a pencil!” He ran off, carrying the paper and waving to Logan, who was still flabbergasted. 

He sighed and removed the quills from his arm. At least Remus left him alone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for 110 kudos! I am so happy so many people like my story! 
> 
> I hope you have an amazing day! :D


	20. Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:
> 
> -Mentions of drugs  
> -Minor violence  
> -Description of pain  
> -Threatening language

Things weren't the greatest the day after Virgil’s episode. Virgil himself was a lethargic mess, practically dead on his feet, not unlike the first week when he stayed up for three days straight. Whether that was because he was still working off the tranquilizers or not having experience with his power and suddenly using it on three separate people, was up for debate. 

In any case, Virgil was so out of it that he didn't even register Janus pouring a cup of coffee directly in front of him until he walked right into him. Janus spilled a bit of coffee on the counter and Virgil bounced back and into the refrigerator. Virgil tried to shake away the cotton in his head, which only made it worse. 

“Watch where you’re going, moron.” Janus spat. He reached for the paper towels. At this moment, Remy walked into the kitchen, in a pretty bad mood himself and holding an empty thermos. 

“Bold words coming from someone who just spilled half a cup of coffee.” Remy said with a smirk, walking over to Virgil and making sure he was actually able to stand. 

“He bumped into me!” Janus snapped, ripping the paper towels far more aggressively than necessary. 

“He’s drugged up! Anyone with a pair of eyes can see that he’s not all there right now.” Remy shot back, snapping his fingers in Virgil’s face as proof. Virgil barely blinked in recognition of the action. Remy motioned towards him and glared at Janus. “See?”

“Well maybe he should be paying more attention. Or better yet, just go back to sleep and get out of my way. We don’t want a repeat of yesterday, do we?” Janus smirked, clearly gaining pleasure in seeing Remy’s face go red in anger. Remy took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. 

“Listen, yesterday was hard for everyone-”

“Oh was it? Because all you seemed to do was take a nap, while some of us had to jump off the roof!” Janus roared. 

“You know nothing about me.” Remy growled.

“Oh I don’t, Sleeping Beauty? What? Taking a nap too scary for your precious little insomniac-” 

Remy slammed his fist into Janus’s human cheek before he could be mocked any further. Janus reeled back a pace and lifted a hand to his cheek, which was quickly turning red. There was a beat of silence. 

“What’s wrong Snakeface? Cat got your tongue?” Remy taunted. Janus simply chuckled. 

“You asked for this. I hope you realize that.” Janus snarled. Before Remy could ask what he meant, Janus snagged Remy’s arm and bit down on his flesh. 

Instantly white hot pain flashed in Remy’s body. Remy’s entire arm felt like it was trying to tear itself into shreds. Remy’s vision blurred so bad he could only see blotches of colors. It felt like the world was spinning. Remy felt like he was gonna throw up and spit fire and everything hurt. Was he screaming? Oh god he was screaming. It was barely noticeable through the fog of pain and nausea. He suddenly heard a thud and screamed a bit louder. Had he hit the floor? He couldn’t see and everything hurt and-

“Not so big and powerful huh, Sleeping Beauty?” Janus leered, crouching down to Remy’s writhing form on the floor. 

Thomas came running in like his hair was on fire. An orange barrier shoved Janus back a few paces as he stuck a syringe into Remy’s arm. Remy’s breathing seemed to even out a bit, but he still winced as Thomas picked him up. 

“Janus, we will be having a talk about this later. For now, you will be quarantined in your room for an hour.” Thomas said. 

“You’re putting me in time out? You’re not my dad.” Janus sneered. 

“Do you want me to use force?” Thomas snapped, brandishing a syringe looking suspiciously like the one he had yesterday for Virgil. 

Janus bit his tongue and swallowed the venom. 

“No.”

“Then go up to your room. Don’t worry, the door will lock behind you and unlock when your time is up.” Thomas recited, glancing at Remy, who had tears of pure agony trailing down his face.

Janus huffed and stomped upstairs. Thomas sighed when Janus was out of earshot and looked from Remy to Virgil. Virgil looked vaguely awake, trying to see what had happened. Thomas almost chuckled.

“Go to bed Virgil. You’re gonna need it, okay buddy?” 

Virgil seemed to have heard him, because he started up the stairs to his room. 

Thomas took Remy over to the sick bay and got to work. 

These kids were gonna be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Janus's breed of snake is called the Inland Taipan. One drop of their venom can kill 100 men, each in approximately 30-45 minutes. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, kudos-ing, and commenting! I hope you have a great day! :D


	21. X-Ray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw's:
> 
> -Mentions of pain  
> -Mentions of drugs  
> -Mentions of Surgery

As far as Remy was concerned, there was only one con for never being able to sleep. Otherwise, there was nothing but benefits of not being useless for eight hours every day. The one singular con was when he was in extreme pain and he had to be acutely aware of every little thing. 

The first time he ever found out about this con was when he broke his shoulder trying to bike down the hill of his neighborhood. He was doing great, but then the tiniest pebble hit his wheel and he catapulted off of the bike. He flew in the air for a few moments, before slamming down onto the street on his shoulder and sliding an extra fifty feet down the hill.

Thankfully he wasn’t hit by a car, but his shoulder felt like it was self destructing. It popped and burned and he was sure something was bleeding. His ren scooped him up and they and his nary took him straight to the emergency room. 

The doctor took an x-ray and Remy was sure he saw the doctor visibly wince when she told them all Remy would need to get surgery. 

So they injected something into his good arm and the pain subsided a bit. One of the doctors did that thing they do in movies when someone dies and pushed his eyelids down so it looked like he was sleeping. 

He was not sleeping. He heard every single thing the doctors said as they operated. He felt, albeit very distantly due to the drugs, every instrument poke and prod his shoulder. He didn’t feel any pain per say. He could just idly feel a bit of cold poking him and pushing something in his shoulder. 

But he could tell things were happening. He didn’t like that he couldn’t move or open his eyes or say anything. He was completely powerless. Any of these doctors could easily just stab him in the chest and he would be dead, unable to stop it. 

Today reminded him of that helpless feeling. Except it had a whole lot more pain. Goddamn, what was in Snakeface’s fangs? The most painful thing in existence?

Thomas seemed to know what he was doing though. The first thing he injected seemed to be something to numb the pain (it didn’t do the best job at that, but what’re you gonna do?). Once he started moving and stopped moving did things get better. He put some sorta fancy bandage on the wound and got something from a cabinet with some writing on it. Remy had tried to figure out what it said, but he might as well be looking through a kaleidoscope. 

So Thomas took a vial with some clear liquid and stuck an IV into Remy’s arm. He tossed the vial into the IV and Remy could feel the pain lessen a lot more. 

Now would be his cue to pass out, but lucky Remy couldn’t do that. Thomas seemed to notice this problem and smiled in some sort of comforting way. 

“Alright Remy. You should be feeling a whole lot better in half an hour. Until then, wanna watch some cartoons?”

Remy tried to nod, but shockwaves ran through his body with the action. Damn that stupid snake. 

“Okay okay. I’ll just put on a Disney movie for now and we could always change it when you’re feeling a bit better, okay?” 

Remy grunted with approval, and Thomas went and grabbed a remote from one of the tables. A huge screen slowly unraveled across from Remy at the touch of one of the buttons. Thomas pressed a few more buttons and soon the Disney logo flashed on the screen. 

Thomas gave Remy a hint of a smile. “Alrighty. I will be back in half an hour to check your progress. Have fun!”   
With that, he left and Remy sighed. Maybe doctors weren’t all bad after all.


	22. Railroad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw's:
> 
> -Mention of alcohol  
> -Loneliness  
> -Implied Child Abuse

Virgil could smell the wonderful scent of smoke. He could hear the wondrous click clack of the railroad tracks. He felt a smile threaten to split his face in two. 

His mother was taking pictures of his smile. Chad was teasing him, but clearly enjoying the ride himself. Diane was chastising Chad between snickers. Andy wasn’t bothering to hide his laughter at Virgil’s enthusiasm. Elliott was gazing out of the window in pure awe. His father was scrolling on his phone. He took the train every day to work, so he wasn’t amused. 

It was perfect! The whole family was here, on their way to some big far off city. 

Virgil could picture all of the different parts of a train pushing it forward and launching them forward in a burst of steam. It was just like the models he made with Elliott! It was… all he could ever dream. 

But you had to wake up sometime. The train had to drop them off into the deadliness of oblivion, with no way out. 

The model train was smashed on the ground with a beer bottle. Broken in pieces with his heart. A few years later, though it felt like mere moments, Virgil was back on the train. 

No more Mom taking pictures.  
No more Chad teasing.  
No more Diane standing up for him.  
No more Andy laughing.  
No more Elliott pointing out landmarks outside.  
No more Dad on his phone. 

Just Virgil, alone. 

Well, one of them wouldn’t be missed. That was a consolation. 

But still, it couldn’t hurt to have someone sitting across from him. Just for a moment. Just to feel like he wasn’t suffocating in the loneliness and the reality that he would probably be dead before he turned twelve next December. 

So Virgil sat, staring out the window of the marvel that was a train and hoping he had enough money for a french fry from the nearest Chick-Fil-A.

Elliott always loved french fries…

Virgil almost recoiled at the thought of his little sibling. With their bright eyes and brighter future. Well, that’s why Virgil was here, wasn’t it? To make sure he wouldn’t sully their bright future? Sully their memory. 

Virgil sighed. He would give anything for a chance to talk to them again… Or maybe just to see their face. Say goodbye. Wish them a happy life with that stupid picket fence and the dog and the kids and whatever. 

But here he sat, on a train, watching the world go by and travelling anywhere but here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear: Virgil was 8 years old in that first flashback on the train with his family. He's 11 at the end, which he still is in the current time in the story. I hope that makes sense!
> 
> Oh, and in case anyone is wondering, Diane is Elliot's canon sister mentioned in Cartoon Therapy. She wasn't given an actual name, so I tried to find one that worked well with Chad and Elliot, and settled on Diane. I hope that clears things up a bit!
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos-ing and commenting! :D


	23. Wreck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw's:  
> -Uh, I don't think there are any? Please let me know if I'm wrong and need to add some.

Three weeks had already come and gone. Roman felt like he had done everything he possibly could in the house. 

Well, not everything. He hadn’t jumped off a roof, gotten bitten by a snake boy, stayed up for three days straight, or actually used his powers. 

Roman sighed. He couldn’t use his powers. Not now. Not when there were so many variables in play. Not when there were infinite ways to twist his words into something he hadn’t intended.

So here he was, on his bed, hoping Remus wasn’t traumatizing some poor kid even though most of them were older than he was. 

What to do, what to do?

He glanced around his small room, hoping to find a bit of inspiration. His eyes landed on some old binders on his desk. The binders that held almost every single word he had ever written. Well, it was something to do and it was always good to be prepared for the future. 

Roman got up, sat down at his desk, and opened the topmost binder. The first ten or so lines each had a sticker next to it, meaning it had happened already. 

Then there was, “Remus will successfully do a cartwheel.” Yeesh, the day Remus finally learns to cartwheel is the day all vases in the house would be kicked off their posts. Of course Remus wouldn’t go outside, and he’d most likely be aiming for breakable objects. Roman wasn’t looking forward to cleaning up all of the shards of glass or paper or whatever other mess Remus would make with the ability to cartwheel. 

The next few pages all had stickers. Even the few outlandish ones like “Mrs. Johnson will bring in a real unicorn for me and Remus to see in class!” That was certainly an eventful day. The whole school wanted to see the majesty of Sparkles the Brave. 

The line after that was, “Remus and I will watch Wreck It Ralph with our family!” 

Now, Roman stopped. It didn’t have a sticker, meaning it hadn’t happened… but it had to have happened. He wasn’t going back to his parents at least for eight years. There was no way that in eight years they would see Wreck it Ralph of all movies. 

Wreck it Ralph 2 must have come out in the theaters when he wrote this. He hadn’t seen the first one, and so Mama and Papa said it wouldn’t be worth it to go see. So, he reasoned with his eight year old knowledge, if they had a movie night they could all see it together. 

But they hadn’t seen it together. Roman had been crushed. No one did anything. It was like it didn’t matter. 

But how? He wrote about it. It had to come true! Everything always came true! It just didn’t make sense!

There was a light knock on his door. 

“Hello?” Roman asked. He never had any knocks on his door before. 

The door opened, it was Thomas, with Janus behind him. Thomas looked a bit sad, but was plastering on a smile. Janus was pouting, like he just lost an argument. 

“Hey Roman! I’m thinking about setting up a movie night in a few, would you be open to that?” Thomas asked. 

Roman nodded so hard he felt his head might fall off. “Yeah! Did you have a movie planned?” 

“You’ll just have to see when you get there!” Thomas said, winking. Janus rolled his eyes, biting his tongue and almost wincing from the pain. 

Thomas simply walked down a flight of stairs, with Janus reluctantly trailing behind him. 

Roman raced through the house, finding Remus and telling him the news. Then they both went to the tv room, where the rest were getting comfy in front of the big screen.

The opening started with a monologue, and soon the credits flashed the words “Wreck-It Ralph”. 

Roman looked around in disbelief. Logan looked annoyed, almost frustrated that he had been taken away from the library for this. Patton had a small sad smile on his face, like he watched this movie with someone he loved. Janus glared at the screen as if it would bite him, but snuck glances at Remy every once in a while. Remy looked like he was half hurting, half trying to ignore the hurt by watching intently. Virgil looked curious, but he was frowning at Ralph’s opening lines. Remus seemed bored, launching a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it with his mouth. Emile was smiling, like he knew this was going to be a favorite of his. Thomas looked content, glancing from Remy to the screen to make sure Remy was okay from his bite earlier. 

If this was his family, Roman couldn’t be happier.


	24. Coin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:  
> -Self destructive behavior

Remus was bored, yet again. Was there anything to do in this house? Maybe it was the cabin fever setting in, but he couldn’t focus on a single activity he used to like. He could always bother Roman, but Roman was starting to do this THING. He would just… pretend like Remus wasn’t there? Like Remus wasn’t shouting two inches from his face as he was trying to talk to someone. 

So Remus tried sitting a few feet away from the pool. Then he got sick of that. What was something that people always told him not to do? STARE AT THE SUN! Great idea!

So Remus layed down on his back and stared at the sun until he felt like his eyes were boiling. Staring at the sun was BORING. Maybe that’s why people always advised against it. 

Once he could see again, Remus checked if anything was interesting in his pockets. He sighed. There were exactly sixty nine pennies, a thumbtack, and a big clump of lint. Remus tossed one of the pennies over his shoulder in a huff. 

BANG! 

The penny ricocheted off the barrier and plopped onto the grass in a tumble of orange sparks. Remus looked over his shoulder, scooching towards the sparking penny. He poked it with his pointer finger, and yanked it back with a yelp. His finger was a smoking gray color. He was… electrocuted. 

Remus smiled wider than any sane person should have been able to. Ooooh, this was gonna be fun! 

Ten minutes and seven pennies later, Janus walked outside. The sky was flashing orange every so often, and Janus was going to figure out why. 

Janus did not expect to see a ten year old throwing metal at an electric fence and then proceeding to touch it with uninsulated hands. 

Janus practically snapped Remus’s arm off getting him away from the penny.

“Awwww you’re no fun!” Remus pouted. 

“You could have died!” Janus protested. 

Remus rolled his eyes. “Unlikely.” Remus scooped up a new penny and showed it to Janus. “Try it! It’s a lot of fun!”

Janus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He backed up a bit, so he felt a bit safer. He then threw the penny as hard as he could into the barrier. The penny bounced off in a flurry of orange sparks. 

“You know… that was actually pretty fun.”

“Right?!” Remus cheered, grabbing another penny and starting to aim. Janus snatched the penny out of his grip, much to Remus’s chagrin.

“But, I know something that’ll be even funner.” Janus said, pocketing the penny. 

“Ooh do tell, Snakey.”

Janus almost smiled at the unoriginal nickname. 

“First, I’ve gotta go see if Thomas has a good kickball laying around. Then, we can play the best game in history.” 

Remus almost vibrated with excitement. “What’s the game, what's the game?” 

Janus smiled, his razor sharp fangs easily showing. “Wall Ball.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading/commenting/kudos-ing!


	25. Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:
> 
> -Mentioned asphyxiation  
> -Death  
> -Fire/arson

Almost a month after moving in, the air conditioners started going haywire. Thomas naturally installed a central air conditioning unit into the house, living in Florida and all. Thankfully, it was only autumn, and the temperatures weren’t unbearably hot. The air conditioning unit could only cool to forty degrees, so it wasn’t overly cold either. 

Everyone simply went about their business, now donning an extra sweater or two if they were staying inside. Well, until Patton found Janus on the couch. 

At first, Patton figured everything was fine. Janus was simply taking a nap. It was a pretty… unorthodox place for a nap, being in the living room in a house for nine people, but that was fine. Virgil has nearly passed out on top of the fridge once, so the couch wasn’t too out of the ordinary. 

Patton thought Janus would be more comfortable in his room though, so, knowing he lacked the upper body strength to carry Janus up the stairs himself, bent down a bit and whispered, “Janus?”

There was no response, so Patton tried again, raising his voice a bit. 

“Kiddo?” 

Patton nudged Janus’s shoulder slightly, trying not to be annoying. 

Even through a layer of Janus’s shirt, Janus’s shoulder was freezing cold. It was like a block of ice. Like someone set a mirror out during winter and grazed the surface of the glass. 

“Janus? A-are you alright?” 

Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t seen Janus breathe for the past two minutes. Patton almost started hyperventilating at the thought. 

“Patton? Is something wrong?” Remy walked in, and surveyed the scene. His arm was still in a splint from his bite a week ago, though he was trying to hold a cup of coffee with the same arm to get his fingers to start working again. 

Patton backed up a few feet, eyes wide and taking shallow breaths. “H-h-he’s not b-breathing a-a-and I don’t know what to do.” 

At this moment, the twins raced in, Roman looking frustrated and out of breath, and Remus looking like he had just outran the cops. 

“Did someone say asphyxiation?” Remus asked, grinning at the prospect of needing to get rid of a body.

Patton recoiled as if Remus’s words had slapped him. “I-I-I-I didn’t-”

Roman glanced from Janus to Patton in confusion. “Did something happen?” 

“I-I-I-” Patton continued to stutter, before dissolving into hyperventilating. 

“Ooh is this the body? Shame, he was cool.” Remus said, bouncing over to the couch and poking Janus’s face. 

“Remus, can you be useful and check if he’s got a heartbeat?” Roman snapped, before going back to consoling Patton. 

Remus roughly grabbed Janus’s wrist and placed two fingers on his frigid radial artery. He spent a full minute, before dropping the wrist with a shrug. 

“Dead as a hamburger. No heartbeat.” He proclaimed. 

Roman scoffed in disbelief. “No way. He’s just taking a nap. He’s gotta have a heartbeat.”

Roman walked over and repeated his twin’s process with frailty. Roman felt his blood go cold as the color drained out of his face. 

“Told ya! Dead as a chili dog! Ooooh can we do a Viking funeral? Lay him out on a pool floaty and light him up!” Remus proclaimed, smiling as wide as a killer just acquitted.

“Remus we can’t light up a body!” Roman hissed, dropping the wrist like it had burned him. 

Remy took a sip of his coffee. “He does have a good idea with the floating him out thing. Janus would have liked it.” 

No one had any better plans, so Roman sighed in defeat as they floated Janus’s body in the pool. 

Remus ripped out a matchbox and a match and lit the pool floaty aflame. 

“VIKING FUNERAL WOO!”

Patton shrieked. Remy snickered. Roman shouted at Remus in horror. 

The pool floaty was just starting to catch fire as Janus slowly opened one of his eyes. He shifted on the floaty, saw the fire and his eyes went wide as saucers. He let out a yelp as he scrambled away from the flame and into the pool with a loud splash. 

“HAHA PAYBACK!” Remy shouted, waving his splint in retaliation as Janus’s head popped up onto the surface of the pool. 

Janus quickly clambered out of the pool, shivering. Patton enveloped him in a bear hug, crying. 

“I-I-I TH-THOUGHT YOU WERE DEEEEEAD!” Patton sobbed, seemingly not noticing the fact that Janus was soaking wet. 

“You knew he was alive?!” Roman shouted at Remy, who was still kneeling over with laughter. 

“Of course I did! It was hilarious! Haha!” Remy cackled, earning a death glare from Janus. 

“Y-you t-t-tried to s-s-s-s-set me on f-f-fire?” Janus shivered. 

“Viking funeral. I was honoring you.” Remus responded, jumping into the hug. “Don’t die again or I swear I’ll make opossums eat your remains and let them live in your skin.” Remus whispered into his ear, making sure Patton couldn’t hear. 

Janus’s eyes widened in fear for a moment, before glaring and shoving them both off of him. “I was just brumating you morons. Get ahold of yourselves.” 

“Bru whating?” Patton asked, wiping his eyes dry. 

“Brumating. Snake hibernation.” Janus explained, motioning towards his scales. 

Patton nodded in understanding. Roman tilted his head in confusion. 

“But you had no pulse and you weren’t breathing.” 

Janus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. 

“I had a heartbeat and I was breathing. You all are just morons and didn’t wait long enough to watch me take a shallow breath or something.” 

Patton looked down in shame. Remus shrugged. 

“Oh well! Since we didn’t get to light Janny on fire, we should play Wall Ball! I wanna take someone’s head off!” Remus cheered.

Janus rolled his eyes, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. 

“You’re on Remus. You go get the ball and a towel.” Janus commanded, smiling as Remus ran inside. 

“Wait but I’ve still got my splint-” Remy said, lifting his bad arm.

“Is that my problem Mister Let’s-Just-Let-Someone-Get-Burned-Alive?” Janus shot back. 

Thomas walked outside at that moment. “Hey everyone! Just fixed the AC and OH MY GOSH WHY IS THE POOL FLOATY ON FIRE?” 

Remus decided to walk out at that moment with the kickball and a towel. He smiled at Thomas. “We were trying to have a Viking Funeral. But Janny wasn’t dead. Next time though. Next time.” 

Thomas was left sputtering and blinking in confusion before eventually running to go get the fire extinguisher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading/commenting/kudos-ing!


	26. Truck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:  
> -none??? Please correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think there are any.

It was supposed to be a normal, ordinary night. Remy was back on the couch, struggling to play on his DS correctly with the stupid splint. Everyone else was asleep upstairs in their rooms. Well, almost everyone. 

Thomas wasn’t asleep, which Remy knew for certain. Sometimes Thomas would have to finish up some work into the late hours of the night, and wouldn’t get to bed until Remy leveled up five times that night. 

But this wasn’t a normal night. The first thing that tipped Remy off was the bright flash of orange in the window. At first, Remy thought it was sunrise already, but that theory was dismissed a second later, when the sky returned to its original dull purple. 

Well, that’s weird. Maybe something hit the barrier? Something big enough to light up the sky for a second?

Remy got off the couch and walked over to the window. He glanced around the scenery, glancing at the trees from the backyard, the fence, the empty driveway-

But the driveway wasn’t empty. Instead of bland pavement, there was a truck. A real truck! With a huge white cargo and bright red cabin.There were several people outside too, moving boxes from the truck to the front of the building. Thomas was there too, moving several boxes with a floating orange disc. 

If there was a truck and people Remy didn’t know in the driveway the barrier must be down.

Wait. If the barrier was down, Remy could leave. If Remy could leave, he could get Starbucks. Remy nearly swooned at the thought. Sure, free unlimited coffee was great, but he desperately missed the glory of ordering and dumping in plenty of sugar and chocolate and nutmeg and-

There was a knocking at the door and some chattering in the foyer that snapped Remy out of his daydream. 

He had to get to Starbucks. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a fantasy, it was a thing that NEEDED to happen. 

Remy slowly shut his DS, careful to make sure it didn’t make a sound. He carefully glanced over his shoulder at the hallway. The chattering had gotten a bit louder, but the footsteps had stopped getting closer. Remy turned back to the window. Thankfully, the living room was on the first floor. Thankfully Remy had played around with the lock on the window when he got bored the other day. 

Remy glanced back over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, and slowly unlocked the window. He slid the window open, trying not to make the awful squeaky noises that would give away his position, and ducked through the crack. 

He almost face planted into the bushes outside, managing to stick his arms in front of him to brace his fall. Thankfully the splint was unharmed in the debacle, though Remy knew he would have to ditch it soon or play it off like a sprained wrist or something.

He peered through the bushes as one of the last people brought in another box from the truck. 

It was his chance.

Remy tiptoed his way out of the bushes and around the truck so that the people in the house couldn’t see him. He crept toward the red cabin. The truck would have a GPS, and the GPS could take him to the nearest Starbies. He jumped up the step that went up to his knees and clambered into the passenger’s seat. 

Actually, now that he thought about it, the truck could get him to the Starbies super fast. He could be there, get a cup of coffee, and drive back without them ever knowing it was gone!

Remy slowly climbed over the cupholders and positioned himself in the driver’s seat. He buckled his seat belt, because if he was going to Starbies he couldn’t afford to be in an accident. He stared at the wheel made of dull gray leather. 

Now, how did you start this thing? There’s gotta be a key somewhere…

He checked behind both sides of the wheel, eyes lighting up when he found the unattended keys in the ignition. 

Okay, perfect. Now, how do you drive?

Oh wait. Remy overlooked a very important detail. Twelve year olds can’t drive, Remy included. 

Meh, he could figure it out. How hard can it be?

Okay, according to the movie night yesterday, there should be three pedals… 

“Remy, what are you doing?”

Remy’s neck snapped up at the voice. It was Thomas, with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

Remy cleared his throat.

“Not trying to drive to Starbies in a stolen truck, if that’s what you're asking.”

Thomas sighed. 

“What am I going to do with you?” He mumbled to himself, before unbuckling Remy’s seatbelt.

Remy wasn’t getting Starbies that night, he just knew it.

He never would have suspected his coffee order from Starbucks was already sitting on the counter with the rest of the groceries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hit 50 comments and 155 kudos this week! I could not be more grateful for all of you guys taking the time to give this fic a shot! 
> 
> I hope you have an amazing day/night/I don't know how time works!


	27. Antique

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:  
> \- mention of anxiety  
> \- mentions of the United States Government law enforcement

Virgil was spending more time in his room nowadays. After that fiasco, he’d be lucky if anyone wanted to see him ever again. Stupid powers. Sure, Thomas can have super easy to use powers but all Virgil seems to do is have a panic attack and nearly kill anyone who tries to calm him down. 

So he hid in his room for most of the time. He still came out to eat and for “mandatory bonding time” as Thomas put it. He didn’t stay out too long, for fear of running into Janus, Patton, or Remy. Remy probably hated him now. 

Well, at least Virgil still had his ipod and his headphones. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he didn’t have his MCR. He would have certainly gone crazy. 

He shuddered at the thought. Nope, he’s got his headphones and his ipod and his comfy spot in the closet with all of his blankets and pillows, blasting “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” so loud he can almost drown out the reality that Remy definitely hates him and he would be eaten alive if he stepped outside his room for more than thirty minutes.

And the music cuts out. Perfect.

Virgil sighs. He slid the closet door open and untangled himself from his blanket and pillow fort. He planted one of his feet firm on the ground and pushed himself off the floor. Unfortunately, he did not realize his other foot was still wrapped up in his comforters. He tripped, barely catching himself on the nightstand Thomas provided with the room. 

He shook off the stupid blanket and plugged in the ipod. Now he had four hours with zero entertainment or distraction while the ipod charged. Great. 

He looked back at his comfy corner of the closet. There was no way he was going to be able to take a nap, he still had an adrenaline rush from almost faceplanting. He looked at his bed, which was completely stripped of pillows or blankets. If he wasn’t going to sleep in the closet, that thing was basically inhospitable. His eyes traveled to the nightstand. 

Since when did he have an antique phone? Was he really that oblivious?

The phone was a shiny black, with a bar sitting atop a silver holster. The bar had one flat, silver side, probably for listening, and a weird lopsided edge that would probably sit right below the mouth. The mouthpiece also had a black wire connecting it to the actual mechanism. It had a circle dial, with holes for your fingers to fit into each number. 

Virgil had thought old phones with the dial were just something tv decided to make up… or something that was recalled and crushed up to make things that were actually useful. 

He walked up to it, and cautiously picked up the receiver. He could probably get a good hour of entertainment just playing with the phone. It’s not like it would actually be able to call anyone. Didn’t these things need to be connected to an operator person?

He sat down on the bed next to the nightstand. This wire was not long enough to stretch over to the desk or the closet, so this would have to do. 

Now, what number was he gonna ‘call’? 

Well, there was only one number Virgil knew by heart. Something Momma and the media drilled into his skull over and over and over again.

He stuck his finger in the nine slot, moved left, which the dial promptly jammed. Not that direction. The other one maybe? He tried the nine again, shifting to the right until he hit the stopper thing. He took his finger out, the dial returning to its original position. 

Huh. So that’s how it worked. Next number.

He placed his finger in the one and repeated the process. He placed his finger in the one once more, shifting until it couldn’t be moved anymore. 

A dial tone started, then followed by some crackling. 

“Thank you for calling the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Password?” A voice on the other line said.

Wait. Someone picked up. Oh no, he dialed 911 and someone picked up! 

“Password?” the voice asked, seemingly bored of Virgil’s silent panicking. 

Oh gosh, what should he say? He didn’t know any passwords that weren’t stupid. He should hang up. Wait should he? Maybe they would hang up on him? Maybe if he just guessed a stupid word they would stop talking and Virgil could pretend the phone didn’t exist? Well he didn’t exactly have a lot of options. 

“Anxiety.” Virgil croaked, instantly regretting opening his mouth as his voice practically gave out.

The voice sighed. “Please hold.” 

Wait. Did he… get the password right? With a single guess? What was he giving a password for? Oh god he should just hang up. Wait… how did you hang up? Was just putting the receiver down just putting the person on hold? Oh why did he choose to do this STUPID THING AND-?

“Hello?” This was a new voice. They seemed tired, as if Virgil had woken them up from a nap.

Virgil should have just taken a nap. The whole point of fooling around with this stupid thing was to avoid talking to people! Now he had to talk to some random stranger the FBI patched him to! Wait why did 911 go to the FBI specifically? None of this made any sense! 

“Hello?”

Virgil didn’t say anything back. He couldn’t. Maybe they would just hang up and Virgil could sulk for four hours while his ipod charged. Okay, just wait for them to hang up. Perfect plan.

The voice sighed. “Well, since you clearly don’t want to talk, I’ll start. My name is Doctor Sylvester Ashling.” He paused, as if to let Virgil speak. 

Virgil did not speak.

Dr. Ashling cleared his throat. “Well, according to the text I received seconds before you were patched through, you thought the password was ‘anxiety’. Is that accurate?”   
Virgil did not respond. Ashling was not phased.

“Then that is what I will be calling you for the duration of our call. Unless of course, you would like to give me your name?” 

Virgil sat there, stunned. Was… was this guy gonna just keep talking until Virgil hung up? How was he gonna hang up?!

“Of course not.” Ashling sighed. “Well, considering this was patched through to me by the FBI, I can only assume you’re one of those kids from the Sanctum. Remy’s told me a lot about you guys.” 

Remy knows this guy? How? Why? What was going on?!

The sound of ruffling papers filled the speaker. “Remy would have talked by this point, so I can rule him out. Emile would have known the passcode from the get-go and not need to have been patched through. According to my sources, the twins… Remus and...” more ruffling papers “Roman, would have spoken as well, as they are both outgoing and extroverted. So that leaves… Logan, Patton, Janus, or… Virgil.” 

How did he know who they were? Why was he patched through in the first place? Why didn’t this make any sense?!

Ashling snickered. “I’m right aren’t I? Ooh this game is fun. It’s been a while someone’s actually given me a challenge. Hmm….” The papers flipped over the line. What kind of papers were necessary right now? 

“Alrighty. ‘Anxiety’. Odd word to be a password, though, I assume that’s why you chose it. Now, there was a certain… situation at the Sanctum this past week. One of the kids lost control of their epithet and things got out of hand.” 

Was he talking about Virgil’s meltdown? What’s an epithet?

“Thankfully, your caretaker took care of the debacle. Now, there were only three subjects of the out of control epithet. Those three subjects are Patton, Janus, and Remy. Now you might be thinking ‘But what does this have to do with anxiety’? Well, the kid’s epithet that went haywire actually was anxiety. Or something fear related. He hasn’t gotten officially diagnosed, as your country does not have the same system as mine does.”

What the actual heck is he talking about? 

“Anywho, these three were subjected to their worst fears coming to life. Therefore, these kids could be feeling ‘anxiety’ as they don’t know when that’s going to happen again. So that rules out Logan, who did not come in contact with the epithet. That means we’ve narrowed our options down to Patton, Janus, and Virgil.” 

How did this guy know so much about them all? Where was he getting this information? What the heck is an epithet?

“You could give up the silence act. Keep your relative anonymity. All you’ve gotta do is talk to me. I won’t go investigating any further, Anxiety. I’ll also tell you whatever you want, so long as you ask.” 

Virgil gulped. Virgil did have a lot of questions. He took a deep breath, trying not to feel the impending doom.

“W-who are you?” Virgil croaked.

“Doctor Sylvester Ashling, but that’s not what you meant. I’m someone with superpowers, just like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't live in the USA: 911 is the phone number for the police/emergency services. Like if someone needs to go to the hospital, call 911. If a jewelry store just got robbed, call 911. The Federal Bureau of Investigations (FBI for short) is one of the United States' law enforcement branches that deals with preventing terrorism and those kinds of cases. 
> 
> Virgil finds it weird that the FBI picked up because he's literally eleven and all he really knows about the police is "Call 911 if you're ever kidnapped." 
> 
> I hope that clears up any confusion for my non-American readers! Feel free to comment any additional questions, whether those be related to random references I throw in or the plot (I'm more likely to give cryptic answers if they're spoiler-y but I'll answer them if they aren't!)
> 
> Also yes this is a crossover. It's not gonna be brought up super often (as the main cast doesn't live in the same country as Epithet Erased takes place, and the USA in this fic doesn't have the same frequency for powers as Taiga Country). You don't really need to watch Epithet Erased to get this fic, (it doesn't get much more EE heavy than this chapter for a while), I just??? Like the show??? I'll explain the major things in the notes (like I'm doing now) for context on things. 
> 
> Thanks for reading/kudos-ing/commenting! :D


	28. House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:  
> \- Monsters

“YOU WANT TO ESCAPE?” Roman screeched, before Janus hurriedly placed a hand over his mouth. 

“Shut up! Do you want everyone to hear you?!” Janus hissed. 

“Oh come on Janny. We’re outside. No one can hear you when you’re outside.” Remus replied, attempting to do a handstand on the grass and instantly flopping onto his face with a light yelp. 

Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “That is not how sound works, but sure.” He took his hand off Roman’s mouth. 

“Yes. I am planning an escape. I was hoping you two would want in. But if you are just gonna shout and goof off, I’ll just figure it out myself.” Janus snapped, moving to get up off the grass. 

“Wait!” Roman called, before lowering his voice a bit. “If we were to help, what would we even do? It’s not like we’ve got anywhere to go.” 

“We would go get Starbies, obviously.” Janus’s head snapped behind him. It was Remy, sipping from his thermos and sitting down on the grass with everyone else. 

“Starbies? What’s a starbies? Is it a deathtrap store? I’ve always wanted to go to a deathtrap store!” Remus cheered, bouncing with excitement. 

“Better than that. It-” 

“It’s a coffee shop. Now can we please get back on topi-” Janus finished.

“Ohhhhh Starbucks! We’ve been there before. Remember? On Mama’s birthday that one time!” Roman explained, nudging his twin, who’s eyes lit up in recognition. 

“Oh right! How is that better than a deathtrap store?”

Remy’s face went red with anger in response, before Janus cut off whatever he was going to retort. “Fine, fine! We’ll go to Starbucks. We have to actually escape first. Does anyone have any ideas?” 

“Well, the barrier isn’t fully on the ground. We could probably wedge our fingers underneath if we tried.” Remy explained, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Wouldn’t the barrier be too heavy for that?” Roman asked.

Janus hummed. “Not necessarily. The barrier has to take up lots of space and be up 24/7. That would take a lot of strain, not to mention constantly having it be electrified. It’s probably pretty thin and light.”

“But won’t it just zap us? I’m fine getting zapped, but you guys probably won’t like it.” Remus explained. 

The other three nodded, remembering the first day when Remus bounced off the barrier in sparks. Roman blinked, getting an idea.

“Wait. Is there enough space for a piece of paper to slip through?” 

Remy shrugged. “Yeah, probably. Why?” 

“What if we didn’t need to touch the barrier at all? What if something held it up for us?” 

Janus crossed his arms. “I’m pretty sure a piece of paper won’t be able to hold up the entire barrier for us.”

Roman shook his head. “Not the paper itself! The thing on the paper!”

Remus looked at his twin, a smile creeping over his features. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” 

“If you’re thinking mass murder, no.” Roman replied.

“Maybe later, we’ve gotta leave first.” Remus waved a hand, as if to dismiss the notion. 

“What exactly are you suggesting, Roman?” Janus asked, eyes narrowing. 

Roman opened his mouth to respond, but Remus beat him to it. ‘I’M GONNA DRAW A MONSTER!” 

Remus then got up and ran to the house, getting to the art room as fast as possible.

Roman sighed. “Remus is gonna draw a monster, bring it to life and it’ll hold up the barrier for us for a few minutes.” 

Remy nodded. Janus’s jaw nearly hit the ground. “He can WHAT?!”

The next day, Remus was finished with his masterpiece. He had used three poster boards, careful to tape them together on the back. In total, the canvas was nine feet tall and seven feet wide. 

The monster itself had exactly eighteen eyes in three groups of six. Six on the head, six on one arm, and six on one of the legs. The arms looked muscley, or as muscly as Remus could draw. It had tentacle hair and a mustache. The legs looked like a mash between chicken feet and t-rex claws. Remus considered it his best work. 

Remy distracted Thomas by ‘accidentally’ spilling coffee on his shirt before running outside when Thomas waved him away, insisting he could clean it himself. 

Remus walked outside with Roman and Janus, who each held one of the taped up poster boards. 

“Are you sure the picture will connect the way it’s supposed to?” Janus asked as they set it down next to the barrier.

“Probably.” Remus answered, kicking his side into the crack. 

“He’s never done a picture of this…” Roman grimaced at the drawing, scrunching up his nose in disgust. “Extravagance.” He finished. 

Remy came sauntering out, giving them the thumbs up to start the process. 

Roman carefully placed his edge under the crack even to Remus’s side. 

Remus’s eyes started to glow a sickening neon green. The drawing on the canvas twitched, slowly peeling itself off the page and holding up the barrier. The drawing stood to it’s natural height, easily towering over the children. 

“He really did it.” Remy mumbled, eyes glued to the monster. 

“C’MON LET'S GO!” Janus shouted, grabbing Roman with one hand and Remy with the other and dashing towards the opening. 

“REMUS!” Roman cried, pulling his brother along and running. Remus’s eyes stopped glowing for a second, and the monster faltered. Remus quickly blinked back up at it and regained focus. It was stable again. 

Janus, Remy and the twins made it past the barrier line. They had done it! 

But before they could celebrate, a giant orange disc materialized in front of them. They ran straight into it, falling backwards. Janus’s eyes widened in the realization of what happened. 

“No. Nononono WE MADE IT!” Janus shouted, banging on the barrier, which only shook slightly with the impact.

“Indeed you did. Congrats.” 

Thomas stood behind them, shirt still dripping with coffee and little Emile behind his legs. Remy squinted and would have sworn he saw Virgil’s face in one of the windows. Patton exited the house. 

“What happened? I thought I saw a monster, are you alright?” He asked, walking up to them and checking for injuries. 

Janus simply grumbled in response, to which Thomas almost smiled. 

“Everyone’s fine, Patton. Some people are going to have some serious talking to’s. Who’s idea was it to try to escape?” Thomas asked, crossing his arms. 

Less than a moment later, Janus had three people pointing at him. He grimaced. 

“Oh come on!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're almost at 2000 hits! Thank you so much to everyone who decided to give this fic a shot, it means the world to me! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, kudos-ing and commenting! See you in the new year! :D


	29. Shatter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tws:  
> -Description of robbery  
> -Mentions of pain and death

Janus crossed his arms as he entered his room, Thomas trailing behind him. He sat down on his bed and huffed, nearly knocking over the antique phone on the nightstand as he flopped down onto his pillow. 

There was a moment of silence between the two when Janus expected Thomas to leave. He didn’t. 

“What do you want? Wanna rub it in my face that I failed?” Janus snapped, sitting back up and baring his fangs. “‘Oh look! Little baby’s on time out!’” Janus mocked shrilly, as if trying to impersonate Thomas. “There, done. Leave me alone.” 

Thomas sighed and sat down next to him. “I think it’s time I tell you a story.”

Janus scoffed. “Ooh storytime. Fun.” He said sarcastically, glaring. 

“You remind me of someone I used to know.” 

Clearly being snippy wasn’t gonna get him to stop, so Janus decided to simply give him the cold shoulder. Thomas took his silence as an invitation to keep going. 

“I met her when I was around your age, maybe a few years older. She was… exploring my country. I was using my powers to carry something for one of the older residents of my village and she challenged me to a duel.” 

“Wait wait wait. So you met a girl while she was on vacation, and when you’re minding your own business she just yells at you to battle, like, Pokemon style?” Janus asked, blinking in annoyance.

Thomas looked off into the distance for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. I hadn’t heard of Pokemon at the time, but yeah, that’s the gist.” 

Janus snickered, turning his head so Thomas could only see his scales. “Of course that’s who I remind you of.” 

“Well, she was a lot more than that. She was extremely powerful.”

To this, Janus perked up. Thomas considered him powerful?

“In fact, our duel lasted less than five minutes, that’s how fast she was able to beat me!” Thomas laughed, looking at the hardwood floor wistfully. “I wanted to grow up to be just like her one day.” Thomas sighed. “But I didn’t have all of the information at the time.”

He looked back up at Janus and looked deep into his eyes. Janus almost felt like he could see right through into his soul. 

“As much as she was powerful, she was fragile too. She was in constant pain from her power, and she made it her mission to find a way to get rid of that pain.” Thomas sighed, looking back at the floor. “For years we scoured the globe, looking for a solution. I almost thought it was hopeless. But I knew I had to protect her, whatever the cost.” 

Janus gulped. “Did… did you ever find it?” 

Thomas looked up, sadness in his eyes. “We did, but…”

Janus gasped. “Oh god, did she die?” 

Thomas snickered. “No no no nothing like that.” He sighed again. “She plotted a museum heist to get this artifact that would help ease the pain. We managed to find it, but we weren’t the only ones in the museum. We went to prison that day.” 

Thomas laughed, but it didn’t really have any joy to it. “Who knew first degree robbery means nine years in prison? Along with the added year or two for the assault of the people inside the museum and damage to the exhibits.” 

“You broke exhibits?” Janus asked, almost dumbfounded. Thomas seemed more warm and cuddly than destructive.

“Well, that was mostly the kids that happened to be in the museum. I did destroy a wall though, which was an accident!” Thomas explained, thinking. He waved his hands in front of himself slightly. “We’re getting off topic. You remind me of that girl for a lot of reasons.” 

He made eye contact with Janus again, but it was more sad and almost caring. “You’re incredibly powerful. You can do a lot of damage with your power. Nevertheless, the world can also do the same amount of damage to you. As much as that barrier is up to protect the world from you guys, it’s also to protect you from the world. And it gets a lot worse when you start committing crimes.”

Janus scoffed. “So I’m just a damsel in distress that needs protecting? Or better yet, a replacement for the damsel you once had? Face it, you’re just gonna replace me once I leave. I don’t matter to you. I’m just a job, and you’ll get fired if I escape by myself.” Janus flopped onto his bed with a huff, trying to fight the tears beading up behind his eyes. 

He was always a replacement. Always a chore for the next person to handle. Janus thought he had run away from that life long ago, but it was back. And it clearly wasn’t going to change for another four years, if Thomas was telling the truth and would let him leave when he turned eighteen. 

“Janus. You are not a replacement. You’re not some job I’ve gotta get over with.” Thomas put a hand on his shoulder, and the teen stiffened with the contact. “You’re someone I care about.” 

Thomas got up off of the bed and walked over to the door. 

“The doors will unlock in an hour. That should be enough time for you to process everything. I… I’d like to talk about everything, when you’re ready.” 

Thomas opened the door and closed it, the locks snapping shut after he did so. 

No one had ever said they cared about Janus before…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas's backstory chapter! I did it a little different than the other backstory chapters that came before! I hope all of you liked it!
> 
> As always, thank you for liking, commenting and kudos-ing! Here's hoping 2021 will be better than 2020! :D


	30. Flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw's:  
> -Description of pain

Emile was sitting in the backyard, staring at the pool. Roman, Remus, and Remy were mad at him. Or, they would be if they find out Emile had told Thomas about the escape plan after he saw Remus drawing the monster. 

Would that secret stay secret if he never told them? 

No, eventually the truth would come out, it always did. 

If he told them in a few years, would it hurt less? 

No, in fact it would hurt more because he kept the secret. 

What could he do to make them feel better? 

A thousand ideas pounded in Emile’s head. It was like five full football stadiums were yelling at him at once, and all of them had microphones to try and be heard. Emile held his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tight, trying to stop the throbbing in his head. They were all screaming. Stop stop stop screaming! Stop it stop it stop it! What felt like an eternity later, the screams stopped, seemingly satisfied that they had been clear in their ideas. 

Emile sighed. He could barely think straight. His vision was blurry and his eyes stung. He clamped his eyes back shut. There was a light ringing in his ears, like he just heard an explosion. His voice hurt, like he had been screaming his head off. He didn’t remember screaming over the shouts of ideas. 

He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to make his heart stop beating so loud in his pounding head. After a few minutes of this, he tried opening his eyes again. His vision was slightly better. He could actually see blobs of color now so that was good. 

He cautiously rubbed the tears off his face. Information overload was the worst. He was gonna have a lingering headache for ages. 

He focused on one thing in his field of vision. Slowly, even through a fog of pain, he was able to make out what it was. It was a little flower. Just sitting there trying to sprout. It was a pristine white with lots of little petals. 

Emile scooted next to it, careful not to squish it. It was really pretty. In fact, now that Emile could see a bit better, there seemed to be a lot blooming in scattered places around the backyard. 

There might be enough to make a few bouquets. People gave each other apology flowers. That was a thing people did, Emile thought. He didn’t wanna check. Checking would make his headache worse. But maybe it would be a nice thing to do. 

“Hey Emile.” Thomas whispered, though it boomed in Emile’s ears. He almost whimpered. 

Thomas mouthed a sorry, before sitting down next to the flower. He held up a finger for Emile to wait, and he quickly gathered a few more using his barriers. He carefully took a few of the flowers, and making sure Emile could see, braided them together. He gathered a few more, and soon Thomas was holding a flower crown. He held up a barrier with words inscribed into it. 

“For Roman/Remus ?” 

Emile smiled. 

Now he had a solid plan. 

Hopefully they would like it… Emile couldn’t be sure anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading/kudos-ing/commenting! :D


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